


Little Monster

by CocktailMeetsThirsty



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Little Monster, Mystic Falls (Vampire Diaries), Other, Passion, Possessive Klaus Mikaelson, Protective Elijah Mikaelson, Resolved Sexual Tension, Ripper Stefan Salvatore, Sassy Damon Salvatore, Season 3 rewrite, Soulmates, Steamy AF, Steamy Romance, Supernatural Bonds, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25972528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CocktailMeetsThirsty/pseuds/CocktailMeetsThirsty
Summary: They say the apple never falls far from the tree, but how far does it fall away from the Petrova bloodline?Call it fate. A Prophecy. Maybe even a curse. Regardless of what it was, it had consumed her."I rose fromThe ashes in the cold groundFrom dusk to dawnI still existI don’t hate this madnessI’m having funI'm a little monster"
Relationships: Damon Salvatore & Stefan Salvatore & Original Female Character(s), Damon Salvatore/Original Female Character(s), Elijah Mikaelson/Klaus Mikaelson/Original Female Character(s), Elijah Mikaelson/Original Female Character(s), Klaus Mikaelson/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 81





	1. INTRO

“Even think about taking another step or calling for help and I’ll put a bullet in your pretty little head before you can even make a single sound.” 

The words had been uttered with what was undeniably as much a promise as it had been a threat, the pistol in his hand cocking menacingly as if to emphasize how serious he was. Women had screamed, had cried, had crumbled into a begging mess for less and the thrill of anticipation of having this extraordinarily beautiful woman at his mercy was just about to make him come undone then and there. 

But there was no gasp of fear, not even a tremble to that exquisite body clad in a skin tight red dress that barely graced her upper thighs. Instead he waited for what felt like far too long for that oval face with the fine bone structure to finally lift her gaze from the cellphone in her hands. 

Almond shaped, deep brown eyes of liquid chocolate framed with thick dark lashes flickered between him and the pistol in his hand and he waited. Waited for her to stiffen and for those orbs of chocolate to widen in unmistakable fear once she noticed and finally understood the danger she was in with that pistol aimed at her head. It was what broke them all. 

Instead, he watched as that gaze dropped and then drifted over him as if though this was the time and place to be giving him a full appraisal. He found himself blinking in surprise as those eyes met his once more, almost too lazily, and then she was turning back to her phone, dismissing him as though he wasn’t worth her time. 

“Put your phone on the ground!” He snapped, rattled by the sight of her typing away at her phone as if though he and the pistol pointed at her head was no real threat. As if though they weren’t alone in a dark and damp alleyway with no one to bare witness except for the occasional scampering rat. “You don’t want me to ask again, Sweetheart. Put your phone down now!” 

There was a very audible and very frustrated sigh and then moments later annoyed liquid brown eyes were snapping up to regard him with such fire that it had him taking an involuntary step back. A step that had him silently cursing him because those eyes caught onto it like a predator zooming on a moment of revealed weakness. 

He couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t understand why he suddenly felt cornered and shaken to the point that he could feel his own eyes wavering underneath her pinning gaze. This wasn’t his first time delving into the world of crime and thievery, he was a seasoned professional in his own mind and he refused to believe that years of experience good be undone by a pretty girl with a good bitch face. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, the phone in her hand blared to life, a catchy pop song filling and echoing between them in the dark alleyway. He jumped at the sound, a sudden urgency befalling him as he was instead met with the panic that should have long ago consumed the gorgeous girl before him. 

“I told you to put your phone on the ground!” He hissed again, and this time it was his turn to bring forth a sound that would echo between them. A sound that would drive through how serious he was if nothing else would. 

When the loud bang finally settled, dark brown eyes narrowing almost dangerously as her gaze drifted from him to the spot a mere breath away from her heeled clad feet where he had fired the gun. If anything was going to render her the shaking and begging mess that he wanted her to be, it was this. 

There was a moment of tense silence, silence that was broken by the insistent ringing of her phone blaring to life once more. He adjusted his grip on the pistol, cursing the clamminess of his hands, and watched with what felt like a baited breath as she met his gaze and then proceeded to lift the phone to her ear. 

“Hello?” She uttered, holding his gaze calmly as her musical voice void of any and all fear drifted through the new silence that followed as she seemed to be listening to the person on the other end. She hummed, seemingly thoughtful as her gaze drifted over him almost absentmindedly. “Sorry, I got a little...sidetracked.” 

There was another pause as she undoubtedly waited for the response on the other side. Whatever was said seemed to bring a mischievous glint to her eyes and he liked the sight of that even less than that of the smirk that tugged away at the corner of her lips. 

He waited. Waited for her to bid the person on the other side to come and help her out of what was beginning to feel like a sticky situation for him more than it was for her. 

“All right. I’ll see you soon.” 

She ended the call and, for the first time since entering the alleyway, actually put it away. Then she locked down on him again, her head tilting in a way that made her seem like a predator appraising its prey. 

“You see,” She began, a slight skip to her step as she clasped her hands together behind her back. He stumbled back, startled by her sudden movement and he ground on his teeth as she seemed to giggle in reply. “You annoyed me, but I wasn’t going to kill you. Compel you, but not kill you.” 

His mouth suddenly felt far too parched, a flood of adrenaline overtaking his system as this pretty girl spoke of murder in a way that made it seem like she was uttering poetry. Poetry with a deadly promise. 

“But you see, that was before I got the okay to play with you and well, I think he’d be very disappointed if I just let you go.” 

It was there, the very human instinct to either run right out of the alleyway and to safety or to fire the gun and just be done with what now appeared to be an insane girl; but instead he remained exactly where he stood, frozen in place as she sauntered towards him with catlike ease. 

Faster than he could even follow, she was suddenly right there in front of him, humming what to him sounded like the theme song to that one shark movie he’d never been a fan of. Sharks, to him at least, we’re dangerous creatures and he feared them unlike anything else and not until this moment had he ever thought anything on land could bring forth such fear. Much less a pretty girl in heels. 

Still humming, she reached up to trail a single finger up his stomach, eyes sparkling as he flinched underneath her touch, but frozen he remained. Even as that small hand wrapped loosely around his throat. Even then all he could do was gulp. 

“This,” She said, eyes flickering down to eye his neck as she adjusted her grip. “This is going to hurt.” 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

There was a skip to her step as she sauntered out of the alleyway, fingers wiping at the corners of her red stained lips as the other hand lazily ran through the mass of thick, silky curls. 

She halted in her steps as her gaze landed on the car parked neatly at the mouth of the alleyway, but it was the sight of the Greek god like individual that just about oozed power, danger and intense raw sexual magnetism with his curled dirty blonde hair and dark blue-green eyes that followed her every move like the predator her was. As always, he was as a mouthwatering sight as he was deadly. 

“There she is.” He grinned, a sensual smirk playing on his lips as he pushed away from the car to stalk forward and meet her half way. A single hand reached up to breeze over the corner of her lip, wiping away at what little remained of the red stains she had missed. “Have fun, little one?” 

Dark brown eyes sparkled, staring up at him in sheer delight as she all but nuzzled away at the at the hand breezing over the side of her face. “Can we go have more fun?” 

A deep chuckle emitted deep from within his chest, thoroughly delighted as he splayed both his hands on either side of her face and tilted it up until their lips were separated by nothing but a mere breath. “What a greedy little monster I have created.” 

She didn’t answer and when his mouth slammed down on hers, it was clear she wasn’t meant to. He kissed her like he owned her, no teasing and no build up. It was a raw show of desperation, a devastation to her senses who became so consumed with him that the entire world faded away right then and there. He licked and bit away at her mouth, both consuming and possessing her in ways that she didn’t think were possible. Until all she could was cling to him, to his shirt, while he laid claimed to her. 

The bubble of sensual bliss, however, was abruptly broken by the sound of someone awkwardly albeit insistently clearing away at the back of their throat. Until, finally, the two broke apart to in order for the blonde haired man to spare the newcomer a look. 

“We should get going. You want to stay on schedule, don’t you?” 

A deep sigh rumbled from the curly haired blonde in reply as he turned back to her in order to nip away the crook of her neck, smile ghosting over her as he delighted in the jolt that traveled through her. “Our fun, little one, will have to wait. Buzzkill or not, we do have a tight schedule. One I’d like to keep to in grand scheme of things.” 

There were no objections, safe for a pout that formed on those rosy lips. A pout that was quickly nipped away and soon he was ushering her towards the car, a single arm wrapped around her middle as they approached the newcomer who had moved to open the car door for her. 

Her gaze locked with a pair of deep-set forest green eyes that watched her with an emotion she just couldn’t decipher, a clouded as the classically handsome and brooding mysterious male they belonged to. 

“Stefan,” She greeted, pausing at the door as the arm around her middle disappeared and its owner stalked around to the driver side, whistling as went. There was a moment of silence, as if though he was just waiting for the dangerous male to slide into the car because it was then and only then that he returned her greeting, his heart clenching as he fought against saying more. 

“Rosalie.” 


	2. CHAPTER 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As eighteenth birthdays went, hunting down werewolves with a hybrid and a vampire probably wasn't all that normal.

It was one of those fine Memphis Tennessee days. The kind of day that seemed to have been granted a reprieve from time, its seconds ticking by in a way that made the day seem endless. The kind of day that made family life seem blissful and endearing as everyone huddled inside in hopes of escaping the harsh heat while salivating over their Nana’s freshly baked apple pie – a recipe she swore up and down Betsy from down the street had stolen from her years ago in a jealous fit when Grandad refused her affections. 

It was a fine summer day. A picture-perfect postcard day. Or it would have been if she hadn’t been stuck outside searching for a furry companion during the worst of the heatwave. 

The dog was an escape artist – one she was sure thought himself to be some kind of four legged Houdini – and it was just her luck that that his next attempt had been on what should have stayed a fine day. And just like any escapee, the dog was apparently in no rush to be returned to the dainty little house that was his prison. 

“Rudy!” She called, eyes darting up and down the deserted street and she felt the instant pang of annoyance as she wondered if he’d run off to a air-conditioned home. Desperate for some kind of clue, she brought her fingers to her lips and gave a sharp, high pitched whistle that never failed to at least snag the dog’s attention - even during times of mischief. 

But this time it did fail. There were no pattering paws. No barks to refute her whistle. Not even a curious head popping out from bushes to inspect the source of the sound. Whatever mischief her furry companion was up to, he was fully invested and apparently did not want to be interrupted. She could only hope he wasn’t off destroying flower beds. The last garden she’d had to replace had cost a hefty sum. But even that was preferable to him trying sow his seed with the corgi down the street. Ms. Betsy would have him neutered without even asking permission. 

“Rudy, come on! It’s too hot to make me look for you.” 

The stubborn dog took no sympathy on her. Not even when she gave his favorite squeaky toy a squeeze for good measure – promising ample play time if he took mercy on her and came running home this very instant. 

With a sigh, she turned on the ball of her feet, ready to make another round up and down the street in search for the canine, when a startled gasp escaped her lips instead and she found herself stumbling back and clutching at heart wildly beating heart instead. 

She wasn’t alone. Not anymore. But it wasn’t Rudy who had decided to take pity on her and scurry home. No, instead she was face-to-face with a teenager – a strikingly beautiful one that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. The girl wasn’t familiar. Not someone she could have recalled seeing in her neighborhood before. She would have remembered. You didn’t forget faces like that. But the green and yellow cheerleading uniform she was dressed in was from the high school but a few blocks away, that much she knew. 

The girl blinked up at her with liquid brown eyes that seemed just as surprised as she was, head tilting curiously as her gaze flickered briefly to the hand still clutching at a wildly beating heart. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you...I wasn’t thinking. Gosh, you must have thought I was some weirdo or something.” 

The girl spoke with a voice that was liquid silk, a sweet southern accent setting her at ease and it washed over her in a way that was calming – even her heart seemed to be back on route to a slower, steadier pace. The girl’s sudden appearance _had_ taken her by surprise and like everyone watching the news these days, she knew not even her quint little neighborhood was as safe as she would have liked. But the girl before her wasn’t some weirdo with an ax. She was a teenager and a cheerleader at that. What was the worst she could do? Fling petty high school insults? 

“You should be careful.” She scolded the girl, finding the strength that just moments ago had escaped her. She folded her arms across her chest, hoping she looked every bit as intimidating as her own mama used to look whenever she was on the receiving end of a lecture. “People have been on edge because of the news. If I’d had my tazer on me, you might have gotten a good jolt and what would we have done with you then?” 

The girl has the decency to look embarrassed, she bowed her head and muttered an apology even as her gaze darted over her shoulder. There was no missing the flash of worry that flitted across her features. “I’m sorry. I just...I seem to be making a lot of stupid choices today. I shouldn’t even be here.” 

“What do you mean?” She frowned at the girl, not liking at all how the girl continued to flick her gaze down the road like she was expecting someone to come barreling down it any moment. 

“I just...” The girl trailed off and her eyes fluttered shut as a truly pained expression seemed to seep into her sweet oval face. When her eyes opened again, there was panicked shine to them. “I did something really stupid. My mama told me not to talk to guys on the internet. Said no good Christian boy would be wasting his time in chat rooms. I should have listened. I should have-” 

A strangled cry escaped the girl and suddenly she was burying her face into her hands, sobs racking through her small frame. It was a heartbreaking sight and it caught her by such surprise that she found herself not even thinking twice before taking the distraught girl into her arms. She pressed the teenager to her, her own eyes darting down the road because even though the girl hadn’t finished her story, she could more than guess where this was going. 

“I’m sorry.” The teenager cried, pulling back just enough for her to see liquid brown eyes swimming with tears that threatened to spill down that lovely face and join the trail of others any second now. “It’s not your problem. I shouldn’t be dragging you into my mess.” 

“Nonsense.” She admonished the girl, her heart clenching as more tears followed. Her gaze darted behind her, to her own home. Maybe if she could get the girl to safety, away from whatever force she seemed terrified would pursue her, then maybe she could calm her down. Enough to get some idea of whatever horror the girl had just endured. 

But still she hesitated. Could she even convince the girl to come to her home after being lured to another where she could only guess at what may or may not have happened? 

“What can I do?” She asked gently, knowing fully well that it was best to gauge at first where the teenager’s head was at. Maybe she would be open to a temporary safe haven and if she wasn’t, then maybe she would at least allow her to take her home or to the police station. But the girl going off on her own was out of the question. She’d watched too many crime shows to know how those stories ended. “Do you have someone I can call? Can I take you home?” 

The teenager seemed to hesitate, her gaze nervously darting down the street once more. It was only when she seemed satisfied that no one was watching, that she seemed to take a leap of faith. “Would it be okay if I used your phone to make a call? I lost mine back there... I think...I think my daddy might be off work by now.”’ 

“Whatever you want, honey.” She nodded, obviously relieved that the girl hadn’t decided to run off on her own. But teenagers were fickle and they changed their minds of a dime and teenagers scared of getting in trouble were even worse. With that in mind, she wrapped an arm around the distraught girl and started leading her towards her home. “Now let’s get you inside. We’ll call your daddy and you can have some cold lemonade while you wait. How does that sound?” 

The teenager gave a small, but grateful smile even as she attempted to repress another wave of sniffles. “That sounds really nice. Thank you. Really. You’re being way too nice.” 

She returned the teenagers smile before awkwardly adjusting her grip so she could push open the door. She pulled at the teenager, ready to haul her inside only to find resistance. The teenager was back to gazing down the street, her face full of barely contained conflict. It was as she had worried. Teenagers were so fickle. But she couldn’t allow the girl to run away to who knew where now. 

“Come on in, honey. I promise you’ll be safe here. We’ll call your daddy and then you can put this entire mess behind you.” 

It was a leap of faith but still the girl took it, stepping across the threshold and into her arms as if that was the only guarantee of safety inside yet another strange home. She should be grateful, she supposed, at least something about her was warm enough to comfort a distraught girl. 

“Let’s go through here. To the kitchen. We’ll call get you some lemonade. You need some sugar in you. It’s good for shock. Then we’ll call your daddy-” 

“No need. He’s never too far away.” 

The reply on its own was enough to throw her but it was the fact that it hadn’t come from the small girl clutched inside her arms that made every hair on the back of her neck stand up straight. And for the second time that day, she found her heart ready to leap out her chest at the appearance of yet another strikingly beautiful stranger. 

He stood at the threshold of her door, dark blue-green eyes peering inside like a predator waiting for some kind of opening – some sign of weakness. It was an unnerving sight no matter how handsome he was and yet it still didn’t prepare her for the sudden fear the coursed through her when those eyes pinned down at the girl still trapped in her arms. The familiarity that swam in those eyes weren’t a welcoming sight and she felt her mouth go dry. 

This was _him_. It had to be. This was the predator that had this girl so distraught and if that was so, then she needed to find a way to both slam that door shut and get the teenager to safety- 

“Simply marvelous, little one. A performance worthy of many awards, I assure you.” 

His words confused her; her mind slow to catch on. Just who was he addressing with such warmth and what performance- 

It was a horrifying thought. One that she knew shouldn’t have even crossed her mind. The sick people of this world played these kind of mind games all the time – manipulating people into thinking the victim was either lying or playing at some scheme for attention. She wouldn’t allow this man to do the same. She wouldn’t allow herself to be convinced and let him walk off with the teenager. 

A teenager she’d half been expecting to be reduced to trembling and more rounds of sobbing at this lethal looking male. But the girl wasn’t trembling and there weren’t any more sounds of crying. In fact, she was unnaturally still. Maybe she had gone into shock.... 

The distraught girl that had clung to her, so desperate for comfort, was gone and in her place stood a girl who now seemed more bored than anything. The teenager wiped away at what fresh tears still lingered on her face, head tilting to the side at the sound of oil popping in the kitchen. “There’s another one in the kitchen.” 

The southern accent was gone now, too. But the voice was still as smooth as silk, the tone now much more playful than distraught. 

Her arms fell away from the girl, a dread that was a contradicting cold against the summer day sweeping through her. “What...What’s going on?” 

The man chuckled, a sound filled with true and delighted amusement. A sound one might have enjoyed if you were one of those lucky few who were in on his joke. “Don’t feel too bad now. You’re not the first to fall victim to that lovely face and all those sweet tears. You won’t be the last one either. Who could possibly resist?” 

There was movement behind him and she wondered – hoped – that one of her neighbors might have noticed the stranger. Maybe, just maybe, they could provide a distraction long enough for her to yell for help. Maybe she could even rush to the kitchen and alert the other presence in the house of the danger now looming at their threshold. But it wasn’t one of her neighbors. It was another handsome stranger. 

“Enough of all this standing around. I think it’s time that we were shown some southern hospitality, don’t you, love?” 

There was a sigh as the teenager turned fully towards her and she found herself flinching when the girl raised one small hand to sweep a stray strand of hair back from her neck. The girl pouted, looking almost disappointed. “I told you you were being too nice, didn’t I?” 

It was only when that small hand tightened around her throat, the grip was punishing and beyond what such a petite girl should be able to muster, that she realized that the danger wasn’t just looming at the threshold. 

It was already inside her house. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

He noticed her before he’d even properly set foot into the Southern Comfort Bar. It was hard not to. Every male inside the southern establishment seemed all too aware of her – their entire bodies angled towards where she sat nursing a drink at the bar. He could see the men knocking back drinks and riling each other up – all trying to muster the courage to approach the mouthwatering sight that was the brunette beauty clad in a dress of blood red silk, the fabric both clinging to her form and giving the illusion of a waterfall made of sinful fabric. 

A vampire. He knew it as soon as he laid his eyes on her and that alone should have been enough to douse any fire coursing through him. Vampires were his natural enemy. Had been since just about anyone could remember. Really, no matter how beautiful she was, an enemy was an enemy. 

But that was the thing about forbidden fruit. It was always enticing. Always seemed ripe for the picking. Always seemed like it was worth the risk – worth the bite. And boy, he sure wouldn’t mind taking a bite out of _that._

_“_ What’s up, Ray?” The bartender greeted him as he approached the bar, tearing his gaze long enough from the girl to give him a nod of greeting. His eyes didn’t stray for long, however, but who could blame they guy for looking for an opening. As a bartender, he had more than ample excuse to talk to her and if hitting on her failed, then at least he could hide behind his occupation. 

“Hey, Red.” He returned the nod, tapping his fingers on the edge of the bar. “Get me a beer.” 

The bartender seemed reluctant to move but he did so without any verbal objection. It was only when Red’s back was turned that he turned his full and undivided attention to the brunette sitting beside him. She’s had to have sensed him. Had to have sensed, just like him, that an enemy was near. But her hackles didn’t rise. There was no stiffening. No snarling. She didn’t seem to care for his presence one bit, a small pout playing on rosy lips as she stared down into her drink. 

Maybe she didn’t care that a werewolf had settled in beside her. Or maybe she could be tempted enough to take a bite out of forbidden fruit with the right kind of invitation. 

He sidled up beside her, his mouth curving into a slow, lazy smile. He was in her personal space now and so she had no choice but to acknowledge him now. She raised her head, liquid brown eyes meeting his gaze. Her direct stare was like a punch to the gut. It was daring, sparkling with mischief that promised hell if he found himself on the wrong side of her graces. 

“What’s a girl like you doing all by your lonesome?” 

She seemed to lose interest, effectively dismissing him as she glanced back down at her drink. “It’s complicated.” 

Sweet lord. If that silky-smooth voice didn’t inspire a man to sin then he didn’t know what could. Really, forbidden fruits were all too tempting. His gaze dropped to her mouth, already giving into fantasies about just how it would feel like to bite into that plump lower lip. 

“I think I can keep up.” He tilted his head, pausing briefly to thank Red as the bartender returned with his drink. But Red was apparently in no mood to be friendly anymore. Not now that he’d lost his chance. “Now why don’t you tell me what’s got you looking all gloomy.” 

At first it seemed like she might not answer him, her small pinky tracing the rim of her glass. He was ready to press on, to tell her that if she didn’t want to talk about it, then maybe he could take her mind off it, when she finally chose to let him in. 

“It's my birthday...but my boyfriend is working.” 

She really _was_ the ultimate forbidden fruit and she was being dangled right here in front of him. Really, this should have been the last straw. He should have wished her a goodnight and nursed away the loss with a few drinks. But he didn’t move, already much too caught up in wondering if he could take away that put out pout to her lips. 

“And so, he left you all alone looking like that?” He dragged his gaze down her form. Normally, it was enough to have girls shivering in their seats. This one didn’t so much as quiver. She was used to male attention and by god did he wish he could be the one to crack through that icy façade. 

She smiled down at her drink, chuckling at a joke only she knew and didn’t seem to inclined to let him in on. “He’s the ambitious kind. Always plotting something. You know what they say about men, always trying to rule the world.” 

“Well,” He began as he invaded her space even more. He dropped his voice to a whisper, all too aware of all the men in the establishment sending daggers his way. He palmed the back of her neck and pressed his lips to her ear. “If I were him, I would never leave you alone. I’d worship you the way a girl like you deserves to be worshiped.” 

“And what would you do, mate, if you found another man touching her?” 

The question startled him and he found himself lurching away from the girl, eyes narrowing at the male now seated on the other side of her. To his credit, there was nothing confrontational about the guy. In fact, he seemed highly amused even as he leaned forward to press a kiss to the side of the girl’s neck. A possessive move if there had ever been any. 

But this guy was more than just a possessive boyfriend. Like he’d recognized the threat in the beautiful vampire, he could instantly identify the predator in this male with the British accent. The only thing he didn’t know what exactly _who_ or _what_ this guy was. 

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” The guy said as he stepped around her and settled instead in the place Ray had just moments ago been occupying, his arm thrown around the back of her stool. “We started in Florida, Pensacola. I met a young chap there who you used to work with before you moved to Memphis, now he directed me to two lovely young women. And they led me here, to you.” 

Ray’s gaze darted between the man and the girl, damning himself to hell for not just staying away from forbidden fruits like the god damn bible had tried to warn. “I think I’ll be going.” 

He made a move to dart past them and straight for the door, eager to make his escape. But the guy was quicker and he stopped him in his track with ease, the grip on his arm as tight as steel. 

“Not so fast, mate. You only just got here, now your type are hard to come by.” 

He tried to shuffle back, desperate to put distance between them. He didn’t get far. The tight grip on his arm hadn’t loosened and now there was another presence looming behind him, stopping him in his tracks even further. 

“I wouldn’t do that.” The newcomer muttered, pushing him back to the counter until they were all huddled together in what looked like a friendly but private discussion. “Rosalie here has been in a foul mood. If we let you run out of here and have to spend even more time tracking you down, she might just take her frustrations out on you.” 

Ray snarled at the newcomer, his nostrils and senses flaring with knowledge of the new company that now trapped him. “Vampires.” 

“You're swifty swift Ray! Yes!” The delighted chortle came from the guy with the British accent and the werewolf turned his in time to catch him downing the girl’s drink before sending the bartender off for something more vintage. “My friend here is a vampire. As is this delectable little one.” 

He gazed down at the brunette beauty at his side, briefly pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist before giving it a playful nip. Her reaction was instant and he seemed to take sere delight in the way those liquid brown eyes stared up at him with wonder. But as delighted as he was, he still picked up on the werewolf looking around, hoping to alert someone who would try and break things up 

“She compelled everybody in the bar so don't look to them for any help. I however, I'm something else, a different kind of monster. I've got some vampire, I've got some wolf.” 

Ray frowned; sure he’d misheard the guy completely. “You what?” 

“A hybrid Ray, I’m both.” The guy ventured on as he turned to cast him a look that said it would do him best to keep up, his tone very much impatient. “You see I want to create more of _me_. Now you being the first werewolf that I've come across in many a moon, pun intended Ray! I need you to direct me to your pack. So, where can I find them Ray?” 

Ray narrowed his gaze at this so-called hybrid, certain the guy was off his rocker. But it didn’t matter. He was no weak prey and he could not be controlled the way the other patrons of the bar had. “You can’t compel me. It won’t work.” 

There was a put-out sigh and then liquid brown eyes were pinning him down with a glare that made his balls want to curl up inside him, the Brit’s amused chortle didn’t nothing to sooth that dread. 

“Can you bring out the darts, please?” The newcomer, the vampire, turned away from them to call the bartender over again, fiddling with his back pocket as he did so. “You see, Ray, we promised Rosalie some fun. So far, you haven’t pleased her at all. That’s a problem, Ray. But I’ll tell you what, I'm going to give you chance at redemption. We’re going to play a little drinking game. Something I like to call truth or wolfsbane.” 

The vampire pulled out a pouch and produced something that had the werewolf’s hackles rising within an instant. He gulped, watching as the vampire held up the wolfsbane and crushed it between his fingers. 

The hybrid grinned, obviously delighted in regards to how the events were panning out. He turned to the female at his side and happily nudged at her for her attention, not that he needed to. She seemed all too aware of every single move that he made. 

“You see, love? We’ll have some fun with the werewolf and then I’ll take you out on the town. Anything you want.” 

At first she didn’t answer, her gaze zeroed in on the tray of darts the bartender had just placed in front of them. She reached out for one, gaze analyzing the sharp end. “Do I get to do some of the torturing too?” 

Ray balked at how casually that question had been thrown out there. Surely someone who looked like that didn’t want or ever need to get her hands dirty. But the Brit laughed again, all the more delighted and he proved it by sweeping down and claiming her lips in a kiss so fierce that it had even the other vampire looking away. 

When he pulled back, just a breath as if he was holding himself back from doing so much more than just kissing the breath out of her, his gaze was full of wonder. “My perfect little monster.” 


	3. CHAPTER 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was thriving in the care of the big, bad hybrid.

The sight of a werewolf all bound and chained to a wall wasn’t too uncommon of a sight – albeit that the sight was usually for their own safety and the ones they held so dear. What was uncommon, however, was to find said sight in the middle of what should have been just another quant southern establishment. It was even stranger to see this werewolf being used as a makeshift dart board. Strange was a tame word, one could suppose, when it came to describing such a sight. Perhaps horrifying was more accurate. 

Or, to be more precise, it should have been. But compelling apparently went a long way and humans seemed to have no trouble letting go of any compassion and worries when the decision was made for them. Whether it was an order they could absolutely not disobey or not, they never so much as glanced at the battered and bruised male – no matter how much he screamed or how particularly sickening some of the deadly accurate dart shots were. 

It was still a fine summer day drifting into what would be another fine summer evening for the lovely and blissfully unaware patrons of the Southern Comfort Bar. 

For all but one, of course. 

Stefan Salvatore watched with morbid fascination as the werewolf let loose another earth-shattering howl, filled with pain courtesy of the female vampire ramming wolfsbane laced darts all the way up his thigh. She was growing impatient with his lack of forthcoming information, that much was clear by how dangerously close that trail was edging to his family jewels. 

She’d joined the torturing session out of curiosity. A whim to escape the boredom that seemed to hang over her more than anything else these days. It shouldn’t have been surprising that the curiosity didn’t last. The newness of things seemed to fade fast these days and it was almost instantly replaced with irritation at the lack of progress. And all that irritation was now being taken out on the werewolf, just as Stefan had warned it might. 

Someone that tiny shouldn’t have been capable of things half that ruthless. But as he strolled closer and gave her another dart that he’d been stirring through the now liquid wolfsbane, he was insanely grateful that he wasn’t the one who was chained to the wall and coming closer and closer to being unmanned. 

“You can end this now, Ray.” Stefan offered the werewolf another out as he made swift work of pulling a trail of darts from the male’s chest – what remained of a little friendly competition between him and the hybrid now watching it all unfold with patience that had probably only been acquired over a long lifetime. But Klaus wasn’t patient. Not really. In fact, he was pretty sure that the only thing keeping the hybrid from stepping in was his fascination and curiosity at what his _little one_ might do next. “Just tell me where your pack gathers at the full moon” 

The werewolf looked pained in more ways than one. His eyes were wide and he licked nervously at his lips, bruised from the first half of their game when he’d tried his best to keep his screams to himself and not give them any satisfaction. That plan hadn’t lasted long. 

“I can’t.” 

They words were every bit as conflicted as the way his eyes clenched shut when yet another musical sigh filled the air. They’d been over this before. Countless times now and the last repeat of it had been what had earned him the stabbing game trailing up his thigh. He half expected for this to be the tipping point – for her to do them all a favor and end it all out of sere frustration. 

But another bout of ruthless stabbing didn’t come and when he risked a glance out of tightly clenched eyes, it was to find the female vampire on her feet and sauntering towards the bar, muttering about annoying werewolves that were lucky enough to be on the endangered species list as she went. 

“I know, I know.” Stefan sounded understanding even as he turned his attention back to stirring the darts through more wolfsbane before carefully laying them out on the trey on the pool table. “You live by a code and all that, but you’re testing Rosalie’s patience. She doesn’t have a lot of it on the best of days and these days...well, I guess you could say she’s dangerously low on it.” 

The werewolf winced and he knew that the moon bound male more than understood the dangerous line he was toeing. His gaze drifted past the vampire and landed on the hybrid nursing away at his drink, that ever-present amused glint to his eyes still as clear as day. He had a feeling that if that glint faded, then his life would fade right along with it. And the vampire wasn’t beyond reminding him who was really in charge here either. 

“But no matter how impatient she gets; he won’t let me put a stop to this until you tell me. And since I’d rather she didn’t get her hands even dirtier, I’ll just keep going and going. Because I do whatever he says, that’s the way it works around here.” 

There was still some fight in the werewolf. He hadn’t completely resigned himself to his fate. He was still clinging to his code – praying that the sacred bond of his pack was every bit worth the pain he was being made to endure. It had to be. And so, when he clamped his lips shut once more, he was already tensing at whatever twisted game might follow next. 

But it was hard to say what twisted game might have followed because as Stefan turned to gauge if Rosalie was fully ready to relinquish control of their chained werewolf that he caught sight of a black-haired woman approaching Klaus unlike anything the compelled humans around them would dare to do, her tone ever respective from the get go. 

He would have tuned into their conversation regardless but it was he heard her tell the hybrid that she had information for him that he turned on the ball of his heels and tried his best too look as if though he was thoroughly distracted by the task of collecting the remainder of the darts. 

“You told me to tell you if I saw something. I saw that the guys spotted Damon Salvatore at the farm house.” 

“Well, thank you, Claudine.” The hybrid muttered as his gaze drifted over to the bar where Rosalie was in the midst of compelling a burly looking biker to join her for a round of karaoke. If she’d heard or even notice any part of their exchange, she didn’t seem interested in the slightest. “You just tell your friends to keep up the good work.” 

It was enough as a thanks the woman would get and she didn’t seem all too eager to stay for more in anyway, already bidding her farewell and hurrying out the door. She never so much as looked back, never even glanced at the werewolf. She had no pity left to give, that much was clear. 

Feigning disinterest would do him no good. Klaus was much too good at reading him and the hybrid took a twisted delight in it too. So, the best course of action was to approach things head on. He would get no answers from the hybrid if he didn't. 

“My brother still on our trail?” His words were carefully chosen, his emotion kept under wraps. It was always important to keep your cards close to your chest when dealing with someone like Klaus, 

The hybrid hummed, gaze drifting back to Rosalie and her antics with the biker for a brief moment before that gaze returned and pinned him down. The threat in those dark blue eyes, however, didn’t remain unspoken. “He’s getting closer, I’m going to have to deal with that.” 

Dealing with it didn’t mean at that exact moment. In fact, it didn’t even mean anytime soon. Not with the werewolf still chained up and unwilling to give up the whereabouts of his pack. But still, Stefan found himself lurching forward to grab hold of the hybrid’s arm when he suddenly stood, desperate to root the male in place despite how futile of an effort he knew it was. If Klaus wanted to escape his grip, he would do it with ease. 

“No, no, no! Let me handle it.” He was pleading now. So much for holding his cards close his chest. But who could fault him? Wasn’t he here in the first place because of the deal he’d made to save a brother the hybrid would have no trouble offing? It was the deal that enabled him to be here, watching over Rosalie even as he obeyed Klaus’ every whim and demand. 

But despite his obvious delight in having Stefan as a companion, years of distrustful habits couldn’t be abandoned overnight and so it came with little surprise when Klaus narrowed his eyes at the vampire in unsubtle suspicion. “Why should I let you leave?” 

“Because you know I’ll come back.” Stefan Salvatore was many things but a fool was not one of them and going back on a promise to Klaus was not just foolish but guaranteed suicide. He was already toeing a very dangerous line, keeping far too many secrets. If he messed up now, he’d either end up dead or like his brother; desperately chasing a trail he wasn’t too likely to catch up with in time. 

Because much like Elijah had threatened before, Stefan didn’t doubt that Klaus could and would disappear with Rosalie whenever he wanted. And then who knew what would become of the girl if Klaus was truly left unchecked to mold his little monster, as he affectionately kept telling them. 

“You saved my brother’s life; I’m at your service.” But it was more than that and they both knew it judging from the way Klaus arched a single dubious brow at him. Sometimes some honesty was the best policy. “And you have the one thing that guarantees I’ll come back.” 

The small bit of truth seemed to placate the hybrid but only just because as his gaze drifted back towards that said one thing, he felt the need to add something that perfectly got across just how important it was for Stefan to handle the older Salvatore brother. 

“I don’t share well, Stefan. It would do you well to get that point across to your brother before I’m forced to handle things my way.” The threat was followed with a sudden curious look that Stefan could not place and then the hybrid was muttering to himself almost thoughtfully. “Though I suppose it would hardly even matterif he _did_ somehow show up in front of her.” 

The conversation was over the moment Klaus turned his attention back to werewolf, eyes sparkling with delight as if though it just occurred to him that with Stefan gone, it would be his turn to play a few rounds of fun with the werewolf. At least there was that to keep him preoccupied while Stefan did what he could do to deal with a brother who didn’t know what it meant to give up. 

Damon had spent years and years searching for a way to save Katherine from the tomb he thought kept her from him. He would spend years and years trying to track down and rescue Rosalie from the hybrid he thought was keeping them apart now. 

Stefan paused at the entrance to the bar, watching as the young vampire squeezed out blood from the burly biker’s wrist and into a glass, all the while animatedly discussing how impressed she was with his runs during the karaoke session that had just ended moments ago. 

If only his older brother knew just how much Rosalie Gilbert seemed to be thriving in the care of the big bad hybrid. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Dealing with his brother had left him drained. Even more drained that the wicked road trip he was on with the scheming hybrid and the loose cannon that currently was Rosalie Gilbert. He wondered what that said of him that he found ripping off heads to be preferable to _dealing_ with his brother. Maybe it was because he still remembered the disappointment long ago that had shone through Damon’s eyes once he saw all the bad that lived inside his little brother. Maybe it was because that memory still held a bitter sting that made him want to curl up in shame. 

No matter how much time had passed. No matter what they did or said to each other. No matter how much they suffered. He guessed there would always be a part of Damon who would strive to look after and protect his little brother as an older brother should. And some small part of Stefan would always fear disappointing his older brother. 

He’d half feared that again that very night. He hadn’t wanted to see that look in his brother’s eyes again. But if a trail of bodies and ripped off heads couldn’t get the message across, then only desperate measures could. 

He took no pride in the way he had compelled Andie, local reporter and Damon’s trusted blood minion, to her certain death. Took no pleasure in the strength he’d display to keep his brother from saving her. He’d been playing with fire, he knew that. Exposing how much Damon cared about others, despite all his denials to the contrary, was a line he shouldn’t have crossed. 

But what else could have gotten the message across? He didn’t need saving. What he needed was to stay close to Klaus and in turn to Rosalie. He couldn’t have one without the other. And if Damon jeopardized the deal for him, then they could kiss any trace of her goodbye. 

So, if killing strangers didn’t get him what he wanted. Then maybe killing the blood minion/friend would. It was the closest evil to home he could muster at the moment. Any other victim, those even closer to Damon, Rosalie and himself, weren’t people he could even stomach murdering. They were friends. Family. Even if Rosalie didn’t seem quite as attached or even thoughtful about her human life and all she’d left behind. 

It was more than just being unmoved or tempted by a life left behind. He knew that much despite the fact that Klaus didn’t leave the two of them alone long enough to ask. It was almost like she couldn’t entirely remember. Like her human life didn’t hold substance. Like it couldn’t shape or mold the memories and keep her inhibitions in check while she was so consumed with all things Klaus. And she was consumed by him. In ways that honestly made Stefan wonder if that was what Klaus had been referring to? Was she so far gone that something like Damon appearing in front of her wouldn’t even register as significant on her scale? 

He blinked as he made his return to the Southern Comfort Bar, taking in the sight of the little vampire giggling in pure delight as she danced along the top of the bar. She was all sexual confidence, hips fluidly dipping and swinging along to the sinful beat of a track booming from the jukebox in the corner. She never lost her rhythm, not even when she tipped her head back to indulge in more of the contents of the beer bottle in her hand. 

It was an all too erotic and all too sinful sight worthy of the round of applause the compelled human men surrounding the bar like it was some kind of stage were all too eager to give her. It was also a heavily contradicting sight and atmosphere from the one in the corner where the hybrid was currently feeding the battered werewolf some of his blood. 

The werewolf was in worse shape than when he’d last seen him and so Klaus has clearly been having all kinds of fun with him. He’d been kind enough to remove him from his chains, obviously pleased with the results of his own little games, but the werewolf no longer had any power to escape – never even mind move. 

“It’s time for step two, Ray.” Klaus announced to the werewolf as Stefan approached them and then, without giving the werewolf any chance to ask what step two entailed, the hybrid happily snapped the moon bound male’s neck. Then he stepped back, satisfaction oozing off of him and seeping into the grin that bestowed in his returning vampire companion. “You’re back.” 

“Did you doubt me?” He asked, hoping to get some sense of just where the hybrid’s head was at. Satisfied or not, if he was distrustful, he would let Stefan know. 

But to his utter surprise, Klaus only chuckled and happily clapped him on the back, as welcoming of a gesture as any. “Not for a second. I knew you’d pass the test. You still care for your brother, for your old life.” 

Stefan fought to control his expression, hoping he looked as nonchalant as the shrug he offered up in reply. “Nah, I don’t have anything I care about outside of this room anymore.” 

His feigned nonchalance was the wrong response. Klaus’ grin was gone and in its place was a kind of soul deep loneliness that the vampire could somehow relate to but never touch. He hadn’t been alive for a thousand years. Didn’t know what had put that mark on the hybrid’s soul. 

“You put on a good show, Stefan. I almost believe you.” The hybrid muttered; his smile almost bitter. “Let’s hope for your brother’s sake, he does. You never stop caring for family, do you? But, every time you feed, the blood makes it easier to let go.” 

He wasn’t sure if Klaus was speaking from experience but it seemed he wouldn’t get the opportunity to ask because not even a second later the hybrid was shaking his head, as if to clear it of some memory, and striding past him. The hybrid headed straight for the bar, his delighted chuckle sounding over the still booming music, when his little vampire merely flashed him a sultry smile – that even Stefan felt warm his blood from across the room – and continued on with her dancing. 

The hybrid allowed her the moment of fun on the bar for just a bit longer. But like her, he was impatient and so the moment didn’t last too long before he snatched her hips and dragged her down to press his body against hers. As always, she melted into his side, perfectly fitting every nook and crevice of his form as she happily threw her arms around his neck and whispered something into his ears that had the hybrid throwing his head back with delighted laughter. 

The hybrid skimmed the tip of his fingers down the side of her face, blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Now, little one, I do believe I promised you some fun out on the town. I think there’s still enough time for the birthday girl to make a wish.” 

The arms wrapped around his neck loosened in order for those small hands to trail down his body, the tips of her fingers skimming and barely even dipping into the waistband of his pants. “What if all I want is you?” 

“Well, then, love.” He muttered, a slow and dangerously sensual grin spreading across his face. He liked her answer, so very much, that was clear. “Far be it for me to deny you anything.”


	4. CHAPTER 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinking realization are far worse than mere suspicions.

The path up the mountain wasn’t civilized. Then again, for a species are secretive and recluse as werewolves, civilization was probably far from a top priority when it came to choosing an ideal location for the heart of pack gatherings. In fact, knowing the nature of the species around the rise of a full moon, uncivilized mountains with rocky terrains only adventurous humans with a love of hiking would dare venture up, was probably ideal. 

Rosalie Gilbert had never been the hiking type, a fact that she’d often exaggerated whenever she felt the need to get under someone’s skin. But that, like so much else, seemed to have changed with her new vamperic senses. Senses so heightened that every reexperience with things that had once seemed boringly mundane, now fascinated her in a way that made her wonder if she’d ever been truly alive when she’d been human. 

Mortal senses seemed so dull in comparison to all that her new life as a vampire had opened her eyes to. 

They sky had never looked so _blue._ Never before had she been able to see the vast and different shades of the color that molded together to make the sky like some beautiful puzzle her human eyes had been unworthy to see. And the air – oh the _air!_ \- how had she been stumbling through life without appreciating the vast scents that different locations, sceneries and even people offered. Who would have thought she could ever appreciate the fresh mountain air - a fragrance made up of leaves, damp soil and something that was just so _fresh –_ as much as she did now? 

Even the sound of running water in the nearby brooks accompanied with the occasional twittering of birds and squeaking of squirrels as they flapped and hopped from tree to tree was a kind of music she hadn’t known how to appreciate before. 

Stefan watched from a few paces back, as Klaus pointed out a small bird nesting in the branches above, the sunlight giving the tip of its wings an almost yellow glow, and recounted a tale of when he’d spent a time during his long life tracking down rare species of birds for a collection of sketches he promised to show her later. 

The younger Salvatore wondered if she was really half as fascinated as she looked, hanging off the hybrid’s every word like every morsel of information about him was something precious. He wondered if she’d still look that fascinated if the hybrid chose to instead recount detailed tales of any senseless killing sprees he’d set out during his long life. Maybe she would. The hybrid couldn’t seem to do any wrong as far as she was concerned. 

Rosalie spotted something up ahead that had her dancing forward, the cooes about how adorable that something was letting him guess that it must have been some kind of animal. Really, she took an almost childlike delight to almost everything these days. 

As if on cue, the heavy weight against his back that was Ray the werewolf, lolled to the side and he found himself pausing to adjust the male. _Well, almost everything gave her childlike delight._

As distrustful as he was, he never would have thought that Klaus was capable of letting Rosalie stray too far from him. No matter how enamored – how consumed- with him she obviously was, there had to still be a part of him that feared she would disappear right before his eyes if left unattended for too long. And granted, she never did go unattended for long, though this seemed to be more because the hybrid craved her presence as much as she craved. 

Rosalie amused him. Delighted him. Maybe even chipped away at that soul deep loneliness. Whatever the case, he seemed intent on keeping her and with that decision seemed to have come some small kind of trust that had been giving to her by no small measure of careful consideration. She had freedom. More than Damon with all these schemes of the big bad hybrid might have come up with and less than maybe even she could guess at. 

For all intents and purposes, she was living in a bird cage. The cage might not have strict or confining walls and the owner had no problem letting her experience new life away from him, for however brief a time. But it was still a bird cage and the walls would tighten if anything threatened the trust the owner had given the pretty little bird. 

Stefan really, _really_ hoped his brother had gotten the message. Even if it did make Stefan the bad guy. Again. 

Klaus fell back, waiting until he fell into perfect step with the younger vampire before casting a look at still dead weight of the werewolf. “You okay? Is Ray getting heavy?” 

“I’m fine.” Stefan clipped back; his reply short. Dismissive. He was definitely not in a mood to banter with the hybrid. Least of all now that he could hear the still slightly incoherent conversations of people up ahead. 

They were close. 

“You sure about that?” The hybrid was in a mood to banter. His amusement as clear as the grin that stretched across his face as he took in Stefan’s unenthusiastic expression. “You know, we’ve been walking for quite some time now. If you need some water or a little sit-down...” 

Klaus trailed off, everything but chuckling out lout at this point. He didn’t need to. His words were coated in the utter delight he took in ribbing the younger vampire whose badly contained flicker of emotions never ceased to amuse him. 

“You know, I get that we’re uh...” Stefan trailed off, racking his brain for a careful selection of words that wouldn’t wipe away that grin and leave the hybrid feeling too insulted. He’d seen what happened to people who insulted the hybrid. “We’re stuck together and all that, but if we could skip the chitchat, that would be great.” 

Klaus sighed and he might have looked thoroughly discouraged if he wasn’t still grinning to himself. “So much brooding. Your self-loathing is suffocating, my friend.” 

“Maybe it’s because I’m a little tired of hunting werewolves.” The younger vampire muttered in reply, knowing that half-truths were the best thing to keep the hybrid from looking for all the other problems that made him weary of being found out. “We’ve been at it all summer.” 

But the hybrid didn’t share in that frustration. Not now when they were so close. “Thanks to our pal Ray, we found ourselves a pack.” 

And then he was point at a clearing through the trees and gesturing for Rosalie to return to his side. She did so with a skip in her step, curious liquid brown eyes peering at the barely even simmering camp fire between the last row of trees. Ray the werewolf hadn’t been any fun but clearly, she was hoping a whole pack of them might make up for where their pack mate lacked. 

Stefan was the first to enter the camp and he suspected that Klaus allowed this only because he was hoping the sight of the battered, bruised and bloodied male on his back would make an immediate impact. It certainly did. 

Within seconds a woman had crossed to them, her eyes wide with panic as she bent down to run her gaze of the werewolf Stefan had promptly deposited on the ground. “Ray! Oh my god. What’s going on? Who are you?” 

Her eyes darted between Ray and Stefan, torn between seeing to her pack mate and assessing whether or not the man who had brought him t them was friend or foe. But it didn’t matter what Stefan was to her, not when the man making the decisions was casually stepping up beside him with Rosalie in tow. 

“The important question is who I am.” Klaus informed the woman, effectively calling the panicked and confused gazes away from Stefan and to him. His dark blue gaze swept about the camp, undoubtedly counting the heads of every werewolf present and finding the number a sufficient and satisfactory start. “Please forgive the intrusion. My name is Klaus.” 

He didn’t need a bigger introduction. Didn’t need to delve into his history and try to explain to this pack just who and what he was. That much was evident from the rustle of uneasiness that coursed through the pack, followed by the woman’s gasp of dreaded realization. 

“You’re the hybrid.” 

His answering grin was big and it was delighted, nothing seemed to please him more than when his reputation preceded him. “You’ve heard of me. Fantastic.” 

The confirmation didn’t seem like it was fantastic news to them. In fact, they seemed more on edge than even before. But those were all just little variable. After all, he was sure they’d thank him after they saw what precious gift he’d come to give them all. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

So many werewolves standing around them, as uncertain as they might be of what course to take that wouldn’t get them all slaughtered, was an unnerving sight. One Stefan didn’t in particular like having in the same setting as Rosalie. Not that the young vampire seemed too worried about any of it. Maybe she trusted that with the famed hybrid close, no one would dare make a risky move. Or maybe she was just too caught up in poking away at the cheek of an unconscious Ray, to see if he’d hurry on up and wake up soon, to care. 

Klaus didn’t seem all that worried either. But then again, exactly what did have the baddest person around have to fear exactly? If anything, seated around the campfire, he seemed as eager as Rosalie did for the show to get a move on. 

“It’s fascinating, actually,” The hybrid muttered, an amused smile tugging at his lips as Rosalie gave a perfectly timed poke that finally seemed to do some stirring,” A werewolf who isn’t beholden to the moon. A vampire who doesn’t burn in the sun. A true hybrid.” 

The werewolf released a tortured groan, undoubtedly a courtesy of his undead state. He was by no means a risk. Not as groggy as he was still, but the groggy state would fade and it would fade soon. Curling an arm around her waist, Klaus hauled his little vampire back, his lips pressed to the shell of her ear. 

“Careful, little one. He hasn’t completed his transition. But a nasty wolf bite is still a nasty wolf bite...and his loyalty is still not entirely assured.” 

She turned her head, big liquid brown eyes staring up at him. No protest or even a hint of question in her eyes. And it was as she stared up into his eyes, that Stefan noticed for the very first time something that was less than confidence flash across the hybrid’s face. His dark blue eyes darted around the clearing, and for some reason he didn’t seem to sure, but about what the young vampire couldn’t say. Not until the hybrid gently cupped her face, his voice gentle as could be. 

“The wolves have been boring you, haven’t they?” He said it like it was a sin. A punishable offence. And if he hadn’t had bigger plans for the wolves, one could wonder what other sentence they might have gotten. “The transition, it takes quite a while. That’s more time you’ll spend poking at unconscious werewolves than it's worth. Why don’t you go exploring? I think our pal Ray mentioned something about a hot spring as one of the markers to look for if we got lost.” 

Apparently even someone as powerful as Klaus wasn’t fully unaware of what threat an entire pack of werewolves could be to a vampire, especially as young of on as the one in his lap. Even if a fight did break out, they would never get near Rosalie, not with a hybrid and a determined vampire standing between her and anything that came pouncing her way. And yet, the hybrid still apparently didn’t like the scenario. Countless years of paranoia proven right had showed him that there were far too many variables to every take things as a certainty. 

But Rosalie didn’t seem to like this plan. Her frown was instant, but her objection would never be verbal. Not with Klaus literally nipping it in the bud with a sharp bite to her lower lip. 

“Come now, little one.” He muttered, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth and smiling to himself when the corners of her lips instantly tugged up into small, albeit it reluctant, smile. “Haven’t we already established this last night? Good things come to those who wait.” 

His affection had softened her, already she was leaning into his touch and sighing blissfully as he skimmed the tip of nose along her jaw and inhaled her mouthwatering scent that was a combination of vanilla, roses and what he thought might be his personal brand of sin. He’d softened her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t beyond trying to chip away at his own resolve. 

“But Ray just woke up.” She cast a look at the withering and still dazed werewolf on the ground at their feet, the hint of her nails digging into the nape of Klaus’ neck in a way that reminded him all too quickly of the amount of scratching and withering of her own she’d done just the night before. “What if something really fun happens and I’m not here?” 

Klaus wasn’t swayed, not even when she leaned into place a kiss at the hollow of his throat, his pulse jumping with even more memories that heated his blood. “Then, I’ll make it up to you.” 

She pulled back with a huff, more an exaggerated show than anything else. After all, she couldn’t seem to ever stay truly angry with him. And then with one last call over her shoulder to come find her when he was done playing with his wolves, she was gone and Klaus finally had enough attention to give to the werewolf who was on the brink of becoming so much more. 

“Ah, Ray! Excellent timing. Very dramatic. Now...are any of you human? I’m afraid Ray here is going to need to take a sip from one of you if he hopes to survive.” 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

If there was such a thing as higher power, then it had it out for Stefan Salvatore. Either that or karma was truly a bitch. Why else would he have been dealt a deadly bite by one of Klaus’ experiments gone wrong and have found out that his brother was running through the mountains with a former vampire hunter and the one human doppelganger that Klaus believed to have been successfully sacrificed? 

But of course, that wasn’t even the end of his problems. No, all those very said problems were running through a mountain and he still hadn’t located Rosalie and if any single one of those problems found her first, then he didn’t even want to think of the chaos that would follow next. 

Klaus would be unforgiving and furious if his little failed experiment found her and managed to give her a bite that matched his own. But maybe he’d be worried enough about her not go snuffing out any lights. The same would not be said, however, if either Damon or Elena stumbled across their path. He wouldn’t be able to guarantee anyone’s safety then, much less be privy to information of where Klaus would disappear off to with Rosalie next. 

Maybe it _was_ karma trying to screw with him. After all, how many head could you rip off before the ways of the universe caught up to you? Apparently not everyone could be like Klaus, go on murder sprees, sacrifice family members and still get the girl. 

But did the score even out even slightly if he tore out the heart of that said failed experiment and in doing so kept yet another thing from killing his older brother? As Ray’s body crumbled to the floor, revealing a wide-eyed Damon, Stefan would have like to think so. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” The older Salvatore muttered, his tone implying that the said question was anything but pleasant. But then after Andie, who could blame him if seeing his younger brother didn’t leave him all warm and fuzzy? 

Stefan watched as his brother dusted himself off, carelessly chucking the werewolf heart aside as he did so. “What part of ‘don’t follow me anymore’ got lost in translation, Damon?” 

“Might want to take that up with your ex-girlfriend.” Damon retorted, though if Stefan didn’t, then he would happily lecture the girl about all the reasons coming to this mountain side with no one but Alaric had been all but suicide. Of course, it was, always, his life that came the closest to being forfeit. “She wants her sister and no matter how much I tell her you’ve gone off the rails, she’s still willing to risk it because she’s certain that where you are, Rosalie can’t be too far away.” 

What the older Salvatore didn’t say was that she had gotten that idea after invading his room. There hadn’t been anything he could say or do to sway her after she found all the headlines and the bloody trail that could lead her right to the twin she’d was falling apart without. They had that in common, at least. 

“Tell her to give up.” There was no room for argument in Stefan’s voice. It was much too demanding for it to even come across as request. “Take her home, Damon and get her to stay there. You two have no idea what trouble you just being here could cause-” 

“Thanks.” Damon held up his hand, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “But I think we’ll assess the trouble for ourselves.” 

Stefan shook his head at his brother, his exasperation seeping into his features. “You won’t like what you find here, Damon. You have more to lose than Elena does. So, for once, just listen to me and-” 

“Stefan?” 

He froze at the sound of that unmistakable silky smooth, cursing himself to the seventh circle for getting so lost in trying to make his brother see reason that he forgot about the other problem still wandering around the mountains. His brother on the other hand, hadn’t turned to stone like he had. He didn’t even need a second to fully locate the source, his body turning towards the familiar sound on instinct. 

Stefan turned as well, his eyes clenching shut as he waited for the gasp of surprise. For a panicked whisper as she asked just what the hell his brother was doing here with a murderous hybrid nearby. But none of these expected responses came. When he opened his eyes, it was the find that she didn’t looked shocked. Not even a little surprised. Just curious. 

There was not a hint of recognition or any sort of familiarity as her gaze swept up and down his brother’s form. Appreciation for the handsome male, maybe, but not the kind that said she already knew what lurked under those clothes. Nothing reminiscent. Nothing but curiosity glimmered in those liquid brown eyes and it confirmed what he’s begun to suspect weeks ago even before she spoke the words that would make it all the more painfully real for his older brother, once it settled in. 

“Who's your friend?” 

But Damon didn’t understand, couldn’t grasp what this meant for him. Not when his mind was so overcome with joy now that the person he’d been searching – longing – for was here in front of him. And she hadn’t lost her playfully mischievous side either despite how much time she’d spent tucked away at a hybrid’s side. 

If he’d been paying attention, he might have noticed that there was no mischievous twinkle. No giggle that let him in on the joke. And yet, he couldn’t see it. Not even when he vamped his way forward until they were but a breath away. 

“Are you really here?” He breathed, skimming the edge of his fingertips along her cheek. His touch was featherlight – as if he was afraid that she was some kind of illusion that would disappear if he put actual strength into trying to hold onto her. 

She didn’t giggle. Didn’t assure him that she was right there and well. She didn’t even press his hand more firmly to her cheek to give him proof of just how real she was. She did the opposite. She knocked his hand away from her cheek, a frown slipping onto her face. 

“You’re awfully touchy for a stranger.” 

He could see the joy filled daze slowly start to lift from his older brother, his heart clenching at the sight of the confusion coursing through the older Salvatore. “I tried to tell you, Damon. You have a lot more to lose here.” 


	5. CHAPTER 4

There were some tasks in life that seemed impossible. Getting Rosalie far away from Damon before he could do something impulsive – something unsalvageable- that could possibly get them all killed, had seemed impossible. Because Damon was stubborn, hard headed and he had the ability to focus on one singular task like a man possessed. It was what had aided him during all those years obsessing over freeing Katherine from a tomb she hadn’t needed saving from in the first place. It was probably what had kept him going all through summer as he searched through tiny clues and bloody trails for his younger brother and the girl, he held dear. 

In a way, it was admirable that he cared so much – that he wasn’t easily swayed once he set his mind to a task. It just wasn’t what they needed now when so much was at stake – when so much blood would be spilled if Klaus even caught wind of Damon catching up to them. Never even mind the carnage that could follow if he found out about the very not dead doppelganger trampling through the mountains in search of her twin sister. The very not dead doppelganger who could be the reason for zombie-like failed experiments. 

Trying to separate Damon from his new obsession – the very one who couldn’t seem to recall ever even having met him – had seemed truly impossible and had it not been for a roar in the distance that served as a reminder that more failed experiments could be wandering through the mountains, he might have never left. Though it might have pained him to do so and while Rosalie might not have even known how much he did and continued to do for her, it would not be the great start to any chapter if a reunion was started off with the deaths of Elena and Alaric. 

Damon had left, but the look in his stubborn set eyes had promised it wouldn’t be the end. If the Andie incident had swayed him even momentarily then seeing Rosalie had firmed that resolve once more. 

Trying to discern just what was going through Rosalie’s head as they trudged through the dark back to the camp site seemed like another impossible task. She was quiet albeit it still curious – that much he could see from the glances that flicked up at him every now and again. But still she didn’t ask. She never asked and that was part of the problem. 

“So...” Stefan hesitated when liquid brown eyes flicked up to meet his gaze, knowing all too well that he needed to choose his words carefully and he needed to do it fast too – before they got back to the camp where a certain pair of paranoid ears would allow for no whispered conversations. “You don’t remember me ever mentioning I had a brother?” 

She shook her head, eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity. “Guess it never came up. He...Your brother, he acted like he knew me.” 

It was a strange thing. All summer he’d been waiting for her to raise questions and now that she had, he didn’t know how much truth he could give her. He was still toeing a very fine line. A dangerous line. And as things stood, he still didn’t know how far this particular memory loss went – didn't know who or what else she couldn’t recall. What loyalty or protective urge could she have for people she didn’t even remember? 

“Ah, Sorry about that.” He trailed off, wondering how much he could give her. The whole truth was out of the question. It was a bomb and not one he was too sure she could handle – much less when another ticking time bomb awaited their return the camp. “You reminded him of someone he knows. I think seeing you just took him off-guard.” 

He braced himself for more questions – already wracking his mind for just how many half-truths he could give her. He wasn’t, however, prepared for the thoughtful nod she gave his answer or the brief flicker of realization. He was even less prepared for what she said. 

“Another one of Katherine’s love sick victims then, I take it.” 

He couldn’t have kept the wide-eyed look off of his face or the surprise out of his voice if he tried. “You remember Katherine?” 

“How do you forget someone who made her grand appearance hurting and maiming the people you care about as she went?” The look she gave him suggested he was crazy for even thinking she could have forgotten all that Katherine returning to Mystic Falls had caused. “Besides, you can’t exactly forget when another person is running around with your face.” 

For a moment, Stefan didn’t know what to say or to even think. He was floored – truly and utterly floored. He’d half been preparing himself for more gaps in her memory – for even more people to have been erased completely. Not once had he considered that she could still recall so much. And now everything made even less sense. Maybe that was why the questions he’d been dying to ask all summer came flying out. 

“If you remember these things...Then why have you never asked, Rosalie? You’ve never once asked about how things ended up after the ritual. Never even asked about your friends. About your sister. Why?” 

If she was thrown off by the sudden outburst of questions flying her way, she didn’t show it. In fact, it seemed more like _she_ had been suspecting it would come around sooner or later. “I guess it didn’t seem important.” 

No other answer she could have given would have shocked him more. Rosalie Gilbert, who had gone about the last few weeks of her human life trying to sacrifice herself and making deals with Original vampires that would keep her loved ones safe, now said that their wellbeing - or lack thereof - wasn’t of interest. It was like trying to put together a puzzle with pieces salvaged from an entirely different box – it just didn’t fit. 

Beating down the horrified rage that coursed through him wasn’t even an option. He couldn’t keep that away no more than he could keep himself from jerking them both to a stop – the gaze she flicked down to the hand encasing her wrist was a warning for him to tread carefully but he was already far too gone to care about toeing the line anymore. 

‘Wasn’t important? Do you hear yourself? Your sister and your aunt were sacrificed in a ritual. _You_ were sacrificed in a ritual and your loved ones have no idea what even happened to you after. Do you have any idea what they could be going through right now? And you say it’s not important?” 

For the first time, he saw actual wavering emotion flicker in those liquid brown eyes. Then it was gone and she was heaving a tired sigh. “Jenna...My sister; they’re dead, Stefan. Hearing, reliving and learning about the aftermath won’t change that. It won’t bring them back. So, no, it’s not important.” 

She shrugged out of his grip and strode past him. He’d pushed too far and yet he couldn’t stop himself from pushing even more. Not when he’d just witnessed the first unmistakable proof that she did care and he was much too scared that if she returned to Klaus side now, that it would all be locked away again. 

“What about Jeremy? You said you didn’t want to leave him without any family? Why not ask about him? Why not ask to see him? Klaus wouldn’t have denied you that if you asked.” 

Mentioning Jeremy had stopped her in her tracks but when she glanced back at him it was to offer him a shrug that said she’d already resigned herself to a decision he hadn’t even known she’d made in the first place. “Having another vampire in his life isn’t what Jeremy needs. He deserves a normal, human life. The choices Elena and I made...He’s been through enough. I’m not going to selfishly stay in his life. Least of all with Klaus in the picture.” 

“But that’s another thing I don’t get.” He closed the distance between them once more, hazel eyes darting over her features in search of some kind of nonverbal answer – another flicker of emotion. “How can you be with him? After everything that he’s done? After Jenna? Elena?” 

“It’s complicated-” 

“Then uncomplicate it for me.” He snapped, fists clenching at his side to keep himself in check – to keep him from reaching out to try and shake some sense into her. “Did he compel you?” 

She snorted. “If I was compelled, I wouldn’t even be able to tell you.” 

“Then I’ll ask him-” 

Rosalie turned away from him with the roll of her eyes, exasperation oozing out of her and batting against his own fumes of confused raged. “I said if I _had_ been compelled. Not that I had been. Jesus, just drop it okay? This is seriously starting to get on my nerves.” 

She was shaking. How he hadn’t seen it before, he didn’t know. But when she raised a trembling hand and ran it across her face, he realized with a jolt that her entire body had a fine tremble to it – a tremor that had her eyes fluttering shut and her fingers twitching in spasms. 

“Rosalie?” He asked, his rage evaporating like mist. He was at her side and taking her into his arms in an instant, wide eyes scanning her for any physical sign of distress. 

“I’m fine.” She muttered, pushing out of his arms after several moments of steady inhaling and exhaling that seemed to calm her. “I’m still not used to feeling things this intensely. It’s...It’s just a lot.” 

He really _had_ pushed too far. He’d pushed and he hadn’t even considered the consequences. Here he’d been thinking and witnessing all the things that made him so sure she was thriving as a vampire and yet here was an aspect that made it clear it wasn’t all as effortless as it seemed. 

“Alright.” He said after an awkward beat of silence. “I won’t push anymore. We can drop it.” 

She breathed a sigh of relief before turning away, clearly ready to end the conversation and get back to camp – back to Klaus whose very presence seemed to soothe her in ways Stefan would never be able to understand. 

“I need to ask you a favor first, Rosalie.” 

The look she flicked his way, as he fell back into step beside her, was full of suspicion. Clearly, she didn’t trust that he wouldn’t continue to push the subject despite him agreeing to drop it. 

“I have to ask you to not mention seeing my brother to Klaus.” 

That clearly wasn’t the request she’d been expecting. It seemed to take her a moment to process it and then her eyes were narrowing. “Why?” 

Stefan tried to keep his tone light, playful even. “You can put away the claws, Rosalie. Come on, Klaus is a hybrid. Who could ever be a threat to him? Damon is just...He’s annoyingly sarcastic and as much as it pains me, he is still my brother. I’d rather Klaus didn’t ever come in contact with him.” 

She seemed to consider it, lips pursing thoughtfully. For a moment he wondered if she would object – wondered if she was even capable of keeping anything from Klaus – but then she shrugged and he found himself releasing a breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding. 

“I won’t go tattle tailing.” She promised, liquid brown eyes darting ahead as the dense smell of smoke seemed to envelop them the closer, they got to the camp. “Besides, if the others ended up like dear old Ray back there, he’s going to be in foul enough of a mood as it is.” 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Chicago was a city of large avenues, tall buildings and noise that made it seem like the city was never truly quiet. It was a fine mixture of affluence and poverty. The kind of place where you could find people from all walks of life. A place to savor and enjoy different aromas and flavors. It was a city a vampire could thrive in. 

According to Klaus, the city also held possible answers for the reason why his hybrids were failing. Or, to be more specific, the witchy owner of the bar he’d dragged Stefan off to a few hours ago, was supposed to have the answers – if there was anything to give. But witches were a tricky kind, the hybrid knew that better than anyone and no task came without sacrifice or reluctant decisions. 

There was always a price, be it for magic or even answers. And the answers he sought now rested on him bringing his sister back into the fold – admittedly a little more prematurely then he might have liked. But maybe it was the universe at work again. With Stefan at his side, his sibling might just be a little less sour. A little - but that would be enough. 

The hybrid made a detour after showing Stefan just how well he knew the stomping grounds of the ripper, stopping by the hotel penthouse where Rosalie had insisted she stay behind – his little vampire was apparently tired of chasing all over the place for werewolves and answers. But it was more than that and he suspected it had to do with high strung mood she’d returned with after trapezing through the woods with Stefan. 

He found his little vampire in the lounge of the penthouse suite, surrounded by piles of clothes and boxes of sequins, rhinestones, gems, bows and laces. It would have been an amusing act in itself to see her sewing and gluing these appliques onto designer clothes, it was, however, made all the sweeter by the fact that the clothes were not hers but Stefan’s. She’d clearly gone about swiping them in their absence and though the Salvatore vampire didn’t hold serious attachment to his clothes, it would still get the message across. She was obviously more than just a little annoyed with him. 

Klaus watched in fascination as she went about gluing pink rhinestones all over the back of a jacket - a shimmering addition to the words she’d sewn into the back with glittering sequins. He didn’t know if he believed, going from the history that they shared, that Stefan lived by the shimmering words that clearly said _Dudes Just Taste Better_ but he suspected that was the point. His little vampire was, as always, so very vicious and oh so amusing. 

“Are you ever going to tell me what the chap has done to deserve your scorn?” He asked as he ventured across the room to pour himself a glass of bourbon, lips twitching along the way when he noticed the scattered sets of male jeans that had already undergone her revenge transformation. It was almost a pity that Stefan would never wear any of the lace or rhinestone enhanced clothing – but imagining it was funny enough and so maybe that was enough of a win. 

“Who said anything about scorn? Maybe I’m just bored. Maybe I just want to give my friend a little makeover.” The words were uttered in a tone that was entirely bitter, her words punctuated with every added rhinestone glued on to the jacket. 

Klaus settled beside her on the couch, his free hand moving to grip at the back of her neck. His fingers massaged at the stress from the tense muscles as he admired her handiwork. “Little one, if this what you do to friends who haven’t earned your scorn then I shiver to think of what scheme would befall those who _have_ earned it.” 

She sniffed and reached for another handful of frilly pink lace, turning her attention to the sleeves of the jacket with a steady hand. He suspected the act in itself was therapeutic for her – a form of revenge she might have tormented those around her with. She hadn’t needed fangs or inhuman strength and clearly, she didn’t see the need them for everything. She could have her diabolical fun without them. Another point, he suspected, she was trying to get across to everyone – herself included. 

His eyes narrowed after a moment of thought, suspicion clouding his mind as his gaze darted around the piles of clothing for anything that seemed familiar. “ _I_ haven’t earned your scorn, have I?” 

She looked up from the frilly lace, her smile instant – full of mischief and all to catlike. “Not yet.” 

He chuckled in delight at the taunt in those words, silently marveling to himself about just how much he liked that she teased him – bantered back and forth with him. Outside of his family and the occasional suicidal immortal, not many would ever dare risk it. But Rosalie Gilbert never did react or do the things he had come to expect from others. His little vampire was a breath of fresh air and he reveled in it – found that he wouldn’t mind if it consumed his lungs, his very being. 

“There’s that fire.” He grinned as he tapped at her bottom lip with a finger, tracing the outline of that mischievous smile. He was tempted to sweep in and steal a kiss, to persuade her away from the task of revenge so he could work out a few of his own frustrations, but his words had earned him a frown he wasn’t prepared for. 

“I’m still me.” Her voice was small, brows furrowed as her liquid brown eyes swam with so many emotions that he couldn’t even begin to guess where one started and another ended. 

His suspicion had been right. Her little act of revenge was about far more than Stefan Salvatore earning her scorn. 

“Of course, you are.” He agreed, his tone implying that to even think otherwise would be insane. He gripped her chin, tilting it up to take a full dive into all the emotions in those pools of liquid brown. “I’ve been around for a long time, little one. I’ve seen the many ways in which the change can affect a person. Some embrace immortality. Others spend the rest of their days brooding and longing for a life that will never again be theirs. For you...for someone who felt so strongly even as a human, the heightened senses have been riding you. There is no shame in that. If you ask me, we should all embrace our inner monster. Makes life much more fun.” 

His words, although not placating enough to stop all the swirling emotion that had become more apparent – more vibrant and reminiscent of the fiery human that she used to be – since whatever had happened between her and Stefan, still earned him a smile. 

“If Stefan gives you a hard time about it, all you have to do is ask. We’ll string him up and then you can use all these devices of frilly torture on _him.”_

She did more than smile as he arched a brow and gestured towards all the appliques around them with a devious grin of his own. She laughed, a silky musical sound that assured him that for now, at least, her inner struggle was put aside. 

Satisfied, he finished off what remained of his bourbon and tugged the frilly lace out of her grip. Then slipped his hand around her throat and feasted at the taste of a mouth that was slowly becoming his obsession. He’d sent Stefan off to find someone they could pair the 1918 single malt they’d acquired from the latter’s old apartment with. But he found that even the taste of something he favored so now paled in comparison to the sweet taste of her. Not even 1918 single malt had ever consumed him, burned through his system or made him crave it as the taste of her did. 

“This mouth is every man’s fantasy.” He spoke against her lips, flexing his grip around her throat before giving her lower lip a punishing bite. “But they can’t have it, can they? Because it’s mine.” 

Defiance sparked in those liquid brown eyes and he found himself stifling a smile at the very sight of it. Rosalie wasn’t used to being pushed or led by any nature of the words – his little one was quite the strong willed and stubborn creature. Really, it was quite surprise that their stubborn heads hadn’t clashed on much outside of the occasional defiantly mischievous spark in the bedroom. Though, if the results of her revenge around them was any indication, that might not be the case for much longer. She was slowly remembering that she was more than just a vampire and it meant that chaos would be coming. Stefan Salvatore had opened pandora’s box and sooner, rather than later, it would all come crashing back. 

It should have annoyed him at the very thought and yet just imagining butting heads with the vicious little fireball climbing into his lap and trying to take control of the kiss – the tight grip she had on the hair at the nape of his neck no doubt retribution for the grip he still kept on her neck – was something he thought he might just find himself enjoying.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke the spell just as before he followed through with the decision to send the appliques on the couch flying and lay her down. He pulled back to find a grim looking Stefan standing in the doorway, his grip on the bottle of single malt and a dazed looking woman. His horrified gaze, however, was on his newly personalized clothes scattered all around the lounge. 

“What _happened_ to them?” 

Rosalie turned her head away from him with a sniff. “That’s a weird way to say thank you.” 

Klaus’ answering chuckle, as he watched the Salvatore male close his eyes and pray for patience, was thoroughly delighted. “I dare say you and Rebekah will get along just fine.” 


	6. CHAPTER 5

What makes people smart? A simple question though, perhaps a sensitive one. If you asked humans, they might tell you that has a little something to do with brainpower passed down a line of equally intelligent people and that despite all that, your genes and potential were still only what you made of it. 

If you asked a vampire or any kind of supernatural creature the exact same question, most of their answers would probably be the mirror images of each other molded by the dangers of the world. Because in a world of predators, what made a person exceptionally smart was the ability to stay alive. And in order to stay alive, there was one kind of sense that needed all the honing and perfect practice in the world. After all, staying alive was much easier done when you had the ability detect the presence of a predator you had no hopes coming out on top against. 

This animalistic sense was something Stefan had hoped his older brother would have acquired during his years as a vampire and if he hadn’t then he’d have hoped at least the last few months and their events would have gotten that point across. But Damon clearly wasn’t smart. Why else would he have followed them to Chicago with Elena in tow? Why else would he have left her in an apartment where Klaus could have come so very close to discovering her? 

Obsessed. Determined. Stubborn. Damon Salvatore was many of these things but smart was apparently not one of them. He apparently wasn’t sane either because no intelligent or sane being would have peeked into Gloria’s bar where a hybrid was a patron and have waved for his younger brother to follow him outside. 

He didn’t know how many more times he could save his brother from Klaus. Didn’t think there would be much more opportunity to do any saving if Damon kept on pushing and testing the patience of a hybrid who wouldn’t think twice about ripping his heart out. Maybe Damon was too used to the honorable Elijah and if that was the case, then his older brother was in for a rude awakening. 

Klaus didn’t need to be honorable and he would do far worse than just whisk Rosalie away if Damon kept nipping at his heels like a persistent puppy with a bone. 

He supposed it was a good thing that Klaus he declared their storytime – the little trip down memory lane – over and that the said hybrid was looking more than a little contemplative. Otherwise he might have insisted on joining Stefan for that “real drink” he’d mumbled about getting as he excused himself. Keeping his pace normal and not frantic was hard enough but it was needed if he had any hopes of trying to persuade Damon to leave without the hybrid coming around to see what had him in such a hurry. 

“What is wrong with you?!” Stefan hissed, his words a hushed but viscous whisper as he sped into the alleyway and promptly slammed his brother up against the car. He had to bat down the urge to adjust his grip on Damon’s collar before he did something like start choking some sense into the older male. 

“What is wrong with _you_?” Damon countered in an equally vicious whisper. He batted at the hands pinning him against the car, ocean blue eyes rolling when that grip was replaced with a pinning glare when Stefan finally did release him. “You kill Andie one day; you save my life the next. What are you? Good? Bad? Pick one!” 

Stefan ignored his brother, mind frantically focused on the task at hand. They had only so much time until Klaus would start wondering where he was. Or worse, if Rosalie decided that she wanted a night out after all and came around to join them at the bar. “Klaus almost saw Elena today. You have to get her out of Chicago.” 

Damon gave him a look that suggested he was stupid for even thinking it would be such a simple task. “She’s not going anywhere until she’s seen her sister and gets you checked into vampire rehab. Trust me. Making this trip would have been a hell of a lot easier without her tagging along but if she has anything in common with her twin, it’s that she’s stubborn as a bull. If I didn’t bring her, she’d have come on her own.” 

“She’s the key to everything.” Stefan persisted, hoping that if there was ever a day that he could get through to Damon, that it would be right then and there. “Klaus can’t know she’s alive. She was supposed to die in the sacrifice and she didn't. Now Klaus can't create any new hybrids. His witch is seconds away from figuring that out. He’ll kill her, Damon, and not even Rosalie will be able to stop him.” 

But Damon really was just like a dog with a bone – so singularly focused on one thing and one thing only. “Is she here? Maybe Elena will feel more persuaded if she hears it from her own sister.” 

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Damon that Rosalie wouldn’t be any help to a sister she believed to be dead. But it was too big a truth bomb – too much ammunition that he knew his brother wouldn’t think twice in using if he thought it could help him get her away from Klaus. But after seeing her in the forest, he was also not sure if was a truth bomb, she could handle in her current state of heightened emotion. 

“You should leave it alone, Damon.” He stuck to trying to convince his brother to leave – another impossible task for yet another day. “You saw her in the mountains. She doesn’t remember you-” 

“So, I’ll make her remember me.” There was determined set to the square of Damon’s jaw that said he hadn’t come all the way to Chicago just to have some one-on-one with his brother in a dark and damp alleyway. He was a man on a mission. A mission that could get them all killed. “If there’s a way, I’ll find it.” 

“Did you ever stop to think during your little road trip to Chicago that maybe her forgetting you was a sign?” Stefan was hitting below the belt; he could see it in the way his older brother narrowed his eyes at him in warning. But persuading wasn’t getting through to him. So maybe he could convince him there was nothing left here for him to save. “That maybe she _wanted_ to forget you?” 

There was an annoyed tick to Damon’s cheek. “She’d never willingly forget what we had. What we had was good-” 

“Was it though?” If Stefan could have flinched at his own mocking tone, he would have. His words were like razor sharp cuts even to his own ears. “As I recall, things soured pretty fast. When you didn’t spend the first half of getting to know her obsessing over Katherine, you were off killing her teachers and classmates. You used her best friend as your personal little blood minion – oh! And didn’t you try to kill her brother and her _other_ best friend too? You got her in the end, of course, but that did end rather abruptly after the little Rose incident, didn’t it?” 

Damon clenched his hands at his side, trying his absolute best to keep himself rooted in place so he didn’t go about knocking his little brother up and down the alleyway. “It wasn’t all bad and yeah maybe it wasn’t all good either. But one doesn’t negate the other. Besides, if we’re going to be comparing rap sheets, I’d say Klaus has as many offenses as I do.” 

“Ah,” Stefan held up a finger, a tut to his voice that reminded Damon of the way his tutors used to talk to him – as if he was a child who was too slow on the uptake to see the whole picture. “But you don’t have supernatural bond that ties you to her, do you? And what good memories you might have shared...Well, they can’t be that good if she doesn’t remember you. 

“You see, Damon, it doesn’t even matter. Not really. Even if you do find a way to make her remember, Klaus will never let you get close enough to try. But let’s say that by some miracle you did find a way and her memories – the good and the bad – returned...she’d still be bound to Klaus. And I wouldn’t ask her to choose, I don’t think you’d like her answer.” 

“I think I’ll take my chances.” Damon bit back, and the amount of venom in that single sentence hinted at just how much that low blow had hurt. Nonetheless, he wasn’t swayed. Maybe that was why he sought for the one thing that he hoped would keep Stefan distracted long enough for him to take matters into his own hands. 

“Do you have any pretty words for Elena over there, too?” 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

_So,_ _a vampire walks into a bar and heads straight for the infamous hybrid..._

It was the start of a humorless joke. The kind with a punchline that could end up being quite deadly. Only it wasn’t a joke. It was Damon Salvatore’s life and if the dark look the hybrid in question slanted his way, as he joined him at the bar, was anything to go by; the end result could still be just as deadly. 

There was no sweetly mischievous brunette chained to his side as Damon’s darkest nightmares had drilled into his mind. And yet the fact that she wasn’t being dragged around didn’t placate him. In fact, it made him wonder if the hybrid had some kind of omniscient gift that had alerted him Damon would come swinging by the moment the decision was made. 

Really, the days spent tracking down the hybrid were clearly starting to chip away at his sanity. Then again, he was clearly chipping away at the patience of the big bad hybrid. So maybe there _was_ such a thing as balance. 

“I see they’ve opened up the doors to riff-raff now.” Was Klaus’ only greeting as he flicked an almost accusatory look at Gloria who had sauntered away to deliver a last round of drinks to the few patrons that remained. If the witch noticed at all, she never lost her confident stride or the charm that she used to work her patrons in coming back for more. 

Damon’s answering grin was mocking, every bit as sarcastic as the look in his eyes. “Oh, honey, I’ve been called worse.” 

“You don’t give up, do you?” The hybrid was frowning into his drink as he plucked at the olive on the end of the toothpick before carelessly chucking the small bitter fruit away. 

“Can you blame me?” The eldest Salvatore brother countered as he turned to give the hybrid his full attention – knowing all too well that you didn’t taunt the devil and not keep a careful eye on his reaction. “So, what tower do you have her locked up in?” 

That earned him a chuckle. Normally, it might have set him at ease. Nothing about Klaus’ chuckle made him feel at ease. In fact, it had the strangest power of making him feel like he was the village idiot who had been caught shouting his ideologies at clouds again. 

“You seem to be under the misapprehension that I’ve taken the fair Rosalie as my captive. I can assure you; she is right where she wants to be – where she was meant to be. I no more control her than you do.” 

Damon arched a dubious brow at the hybrid, not convinced in the slightest. “Now that isn’t true is it? Compelling someone to forget their ex-boyfriend is a form of control, isn’t it? What? Were you feeling a little threatened?” 

It was the wrong topic to bring up. That was made abundantly clear by the way the hybrid’s eyes snapped up and narrowed onto him. He looked like a predator. A predator that was getting tired of its prey acting all brave and mighty – prey that had clearly offended him by even suggesting he would have compelled her. “What a very specific thing to say...Tell me, did your brother pass along that bit of information when he went to _handle_ you or did you acquire that all on your own?” 

Damon had a feeling that the hybrid would have much more preferred it if Stefan had been the one to pass it along than to hear just _how_ he’d actually come to find out. “Stefan might have mentioned it.” 

The hybrid didn’t look like he bought it, not entirely. And as he sat back in his chair, twirling that toothpick between his fingers, he seemed to suck all the air from the room – his predatory presence was that suffocating. “Now I’m torn. You see, I promised Stefan I wouldn't let you die, but how many freebies did I really sign up for? And clearly you want to die, otherwise you wouldn't be here.” 

“Rosalie-” 

“Is mine.” The words were a growl as the hybrid pushed to his feet, his chair flying back with the brute strength behind that simple action. And then he was eating up the little space between them, hand clamping down on the vampire’s and hauling him close until they were nose-to-nose. “She was mine before you were even born and she’ll be mine long after you turn to dust. That means whatever brief an affair you two might have shared, it means nothing. You are nothing to her and she is nothing to you.” 

Being gripped by a hand that he had little doubt could and would crush his throat should have been enough of a reason for him shut up. A smart person would have. But as he kept on proving, he was neither smart nor sane. “If we hadn’t broken up-” 

The grip around his throat tightened even more, leaving him spluttering and squirming in a grip he had no hopes of escaping. 

“It wouldn’t have made her any less mine.” Klaus was firm even as he glanced down at his other hand and raised the sharp toothpick for the other male to see – his grin deviously mischievous. “I’m boozey, so you'll forgive me if I miss your heart the first few tries.” 

There was no dragged out build up. He moved with speed that was far superior than that of a vampire. Klaus, was, after all, a hybrid. A hybrid the eldest Salvatore brother had pissed off. And he let Damon feel just how much took that innocent enough looking toothpick and stabbed it into his stomach. 

“That’s not it.” Klaus mused, a mocking assessing hum following as he swiftly pulled back the toothpick and stabbed away at the vampire again. The new wound was further up his stomach but still a beat away from his heart. “Almost.” 

The hybrid pulled back the toothpick once more and the new angle, hovering over the vampire’s heart, implied that it wouldn’t miss its target this time. The hybrid was already intent on killing him, so why did Damon feel the need to taunt him some more? Maybe he just couldn’t resist any opportunity to rile anyone – no matter how dangerous that person might be. 

“Killing me doesn’t make you look very secure in your new relationship. Tell you what though; you want a partner in crime? Forget Stefan. I’m so much more fun and you can keep an eye on me and I can keep one on-” 

The growl that ripped its way out of the hybrid’s chest was deafening and then he was throwing the vampire across the room. He was there, waiting, even before Damon finished crashing through the tables and tumbling onto the floor. He’d abandoned the toothpick, but it was not a comforting thought when he immediately set about ripping the leg off a chair – a bigger and better makeshift stake. 

“You won’t be any fun after you’re dead.” Klaus mused as he crouched down to loom over the vampire, the grip on his makeshift stake tight – determined. He didn’t give the male any chance to protest or deliver another perfectly timed smart quip as he raised the stake and there was no doubt that he we would have happily ended the life of Damon Salvatore then and there – if only the stake hadn’t burst into flames. 

The hybrid chucked the burning stake aside with a grunt and cast the witch responsible a dry, heavily unimpressed look. “Really?” 

The witch didn’t balk underneath that glare. Instead she just folded her arms across her chest and nodded towards the door. “Not in my bar. You take it outside.” 

It was a small opening but Damon was grateful enough to the witch who had just hours before expressed a little of fondness towards him. If he could just sit up then maybe he could put some distance between him and- 

The hybrid wasn’t having any of it. Klaus pinned him back down on the floor, his hold the kind that would have done more than just bruise a human. It was a lucky thing Damon wasn’t human. He didn’t feel too lucky though. 

“You don’t have to negotiate your brother’s freedom and Rosalie is no longer of any concern to you. Like I said, she’s mine. Its best you get with the program or next time, you’ll end up very dead.” 


	7. CHAPTER 6

It was hard to say just what Rosalie Gilbert had been expecting when it came to meeting the Original known as Rebekah. Beauty and a certain air of poise were a given, a naturally acquired atmosphere after centuries of living through the most regal and elegant of eras. No one could ever hold themselves the way an Original could, the confidence and certainty they held themselves with was unmatched. Then again, when you were the strongest, most powerful family around, certainty was probably not something hard to hold on to even a thousand years down the line. 

Rebekah _was_ beautiful – exceptionally so. With her natural light blond hair, baby blue eyes, full lips and her sweetheart face, it was easy to see just why Stefan had been taken with her ninety years ago. Hers was a beauty that would never go out of style – and not just because her features would forever be frozen around the age of seventeen. 

It was, however, hard to say if they would get along as splendidly as Klaus seemed to think. They hadn’t had much of a first meeting. Klaus had returned to the penthouse with her and Stefan in tow – both siblings in a foul mood as they bickered back and forth about a lost necklace. It hadn’t seemed possible, but the beautiful blonde vampire’s mood had seemed to sour even more the moment baby blue and liquid brown eyes collided. 

Rosalie couldn’t say she’d ever had someone curl up their upper lip and snarl at her on their first meeting. But then she was only just getting used to meeting people who had already met various versions of her face on different people with different personalities during many lifetimes. 

They hadn’t had much of an introduction. Not really. Klaus had barely even uttered her name before his sibling was hissing at him about his very specific taste in woman. A taste he indulged in while she was daggered and nicely tucked away in a coffin – completely unable to pursue her own heart’s desires. Rebekah had dubbed him a hypocrite before huffing out of the lounge, muttering under her breath about how he was a fool for punishment if he thought this time would be any different from the rest. 

That sour mood hadn’t lifted by the time the sun peeked up above the skyline of tall buildings. In fact, it seemed to have festered and boiled over night. Both siblings seemed like ticking time bombs – one pure second away from wreaking havoc. 

It had been Rosalie’s suggestion to go out. To get Rebekah acquainted with the new century and all that she had missed during the ninety years Klaus had kept her from walking around. Rebekah was, after all, an attractive girl who should be enjoying all the benefits and wonders the 21ste century had to offer a woman. The idea had seemed to pique the Original vampire’s interest and she’d seemed very eager to see just what the new trends were. It was unfortunate that her interest had soured once more when after the first few outfits, she found that she didn’t quite like the new fashion trend. 

“So, women in the 21st century dress like prostitutes, then” 

Rebekah walked out of the dressing room, a pretty sight in the form fitting black dress. Her ability to fit in – to look like the most elegant person of any era – was effortless. Envy worthy even. And still she glared down at the black dress as if though it had offended her. 

“You know, I got dirty looks for wearing trousers.” 

Her brother snickered as she tugged down at dress again like she was hoping more length would come shimmering down if she pulled hard enough. He waved his glass of champagne at her, a jesting toast. “You wore trousers so women today could wear nothing.” 

Rebekah ignored him as she turned her attention to the small little speakers nailed to the corner of the store, a grimace flitting across her face. “And what is this music? It sounds like a cable car accident.” 

“It’s dance music.” Stefan supplied with a sip at his own glass of champagne. His answer didn’t satisfy her and he was left humming into his glass when she muttered her obvious disbelief that anyone could dance to the music that sounded like nothing but noise to her. 

“Are we done?” Klaus prompted, his impatience cracking through the amused demeanor as he sought the attention of his little vampire. But Rosalie was on her own mission – far too focused on hunting down clothes that would make Rebekah feel comfortable and still be stylish. 

Rosalie didn’t so much as glance at him but Rebekah did, another frown already forming. “And why are you so grumpy?” 

“I needed one thing from you for my witch to find out why my hybrids are dying, one thing.” He wasn’t moved by his sister’s frown, his irritation at going through all the effort and still coming up empty hand as clear as the tick to his jaw. “Your necklace. And you lost it.” 

“I didn’t lose it.” She denied immediately, an almost petulant purse to her lips. “It’s just been missing for 90 years.” 

The unimpressed look Klaus flicked her way that said those two things were one and the same and she knew that as perfectly well as he did, but his sister paid him no mind as her own gaze sought Stefan, a hesitant, almost shy, expectation swimming in her baby blue eyes. 

“So, what do you think?” 

Stefan glanced up from his drink. For all of a single second and then he was staring down into his drink again. “I like it.” 

His reply was curt. Dispassionate. It was no great mystery why it didn’t please her. They were witnessing the cruelty of time right before their very eyes. For Stefan it had been ninety years since he’d last laid eyes on the beautiful vampire. An Original vampire who had ensnared him with her grace, her wit and beauty. But ninety years, though a mere drop in the glass in comparison to eternity, was still a long time. So much could change in ninety years. So many other things or people could capture a heart. It didn’t help that he hadn’t had any memory of ever meeting the Original vampire or her brother, courtesy of the compulsion Klaus had only just very recently lifted. 

For Stefan it had been ninety years. For Rebekah it had been but a moment since she’d made the decision to leave her brother behind and pursue a new life with Stefan. And Stefan Salvatore couldn’t seem more indifferent to her if he tried. 

It was a heart clenching reality and Rosalie found herself turning to give the two insensitive men, sipping away at their champagne, a disapproving glare. But the damage was done and not even a second later, Rebekah was closing herself off behind the curtain of the dressing room, muttering to herself about lying men as she went. 

“Men.” She muttered, disdain dripping from the word as she snatched something off the rack and proceed towards the curtain that now hid Rebekah away from it. The curtain was as metaphorical as the walls she could feel Rebekah building up – taller and all the thicker the more men like Stefan disappointed her. 

She found Rebekah staring at her own reflection in the dressing room mirror, eyes swimming with unshed emotion and she fought to ensemble some kind of control. It seemed to be a hard task if the cracked hanger in her hands was anything to go by. 

“Try this.” Rosalie held up a pair of pure white pants and a silky peach blouse. She set the outfit aside before carefully taking the broken hanger from the blonde and carelessly chucking it past the curtain. 

Rebekah didn’t move but her baby blue eyes did flick to the side to study the young vampire, her gaze neither friendly or welcoming. “You can tell my brother that I don’t need his latest bed mate to babysit me.” 

Rosalie laughed and the sound actually made the Original blink – she'd clearly been aiming to offend not amuse. “Your brother didn’t ask me to do anything. I’m here because if Klaus had his way, he’d spend the whole day drinking and moping about that necklace of yours. I, for one, would much rather help you get up to date with the 21ste century and all it has to offer.” 

The Original didn’t look convinced, her baby blue eyes much too pure to hide the shadows of suspicion that forever swam there at the smallest act of kindness. She resembled her brother so much in moments like these that Rosalie wondered if either of them were even aware. But at least she didn’t object when Rosalie wandered closer to hold up the silky peach blouse against her skin, the color a warm and soothing tone against the perfect paleness of her skin. 

Rebekah liked this outfit more. Rosalie could tell by the way she ran her fingers over the ensemble, her gaze never drifting far from the mirror, For a moment she wondered if the Original had been ensnared by her own reflection, she wouldn’t have blamed the girl, but there was a strained look in her eyes and a blade to her lips that begged the contrary. 

So, they both even had the same soul deep loneliness. 

“Well, this isn’t going to work.” 

That seemed to startle Rebekah out of whatever painful thought that she’d been silently punishing herself with, her eyes darting up to regard Rosalie with a deeply confused furrow to her brows. 

“You’re not having fun.” Rosalie said simply, as if though that simple fact was unacceptable. “We need to change that.” 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The club was more a dark tavern than anything else – barely lit with air that that reeked of stale beer, body odor and a faint but ever-present scent of bagged blood being produced and served by the barman. Jangled voices piped over the loud music blasting through the room - a combination of laughing, swearing, boasting, threatening and back slapping. 

It was no sophisticated establishment. Held no refined air. Didn’t even try to hide behind fancy furnishing. It was an establishment catered towards immortals torn between staring down at an empty glass or looking for fun. 

It came as no surprise that Rebekah loathed the place on sight. 

The Original crinkled her nose in distaste, her eyes darting to the side for any indication on the vampire beside her that they had taken a wrong turn. “Do you expect me to join the riff-raff drinking themselves into a stupor?” 

The look on Rebekah’s face more than said that if this was a modern woman’s idea of fun, then she’d much rather stick to her old ways. Her sophisticated ways. She was just about to demand they leave when Rosalie tugged on her hand and began leading her through the drunken bodies scattered across the dimly lit club 

“We could do that,” Rosalie mused over her shoulder, lips twitching in amusement at Rebekah’s obvious disdain. “But that’s not why we’re here. We’re here because I need to let off some stress and you needed to get away from under Klaus’ watchful eye.” 

“How _did_ you convince him to let us go without him?” Rebekah asked quietly. She’d been prepared for the suspicion. To be put under lock and key as her brother did everything but put her in a physical cage. Their last conversation, just before he’d daggered her ninety years ago, hadn’t ended on a good note. In fact, she was pretty sure she’d have been facing even more consequences for the choices made that night. 

What she hadn’t expected was for him to let her go off on her own. To have fun. But she suspected it had everything to do with the petite brunette dancing her way through the crowd with ease. 

Rosalie glanced her way, gaze thoughtful as she seemed to consider how to exactly phrase it. “Well, I find that men – even hybrids – are very quick to crumble to your will if you lay on the sweetness. If that fails, just threaten to take away sex.” 

She said it so casually, so matter of factly, that Rebekah nearly choked on the stale air of the bar. Her face must have betrayed her surprise because Rosalie gave a giggle that was like the sound of clear bells. Then the brunette was tugging her ahead again and down a flight of creaking stairs and into a large underground level. 

If the state of the upper floor was bad, then near condemned was a perfect way to describe what greeted them below. From fighting pits to candle lit poker tables to a wooden pen with an actual – and fuming – bull that broke into a large, dug out arena for it to run rampant through. If the upper floor was where supernatural creatures went about drinking their sorrows away, then this floor was where they came in search of thrills. 

Rebekah zeroed in on the poker tables, automatically assuming the brunette vampire had brought her here to show her talent at cards. She turned, ready to ask the young vampire if she truly thought she had skills that could compete against that which had been acquired over a thousand years of playing the game, but Rosalie was already sauntering away. 

Right over to the bull pen. 

Rebekah frowned, her mind still not entirely grasping just what the young vampire was aiming to do even as she joined a tall male who told her she was right on time. It was only when the male helped her slip on a large, protective vest – perfect for fending off a stray bull horn that could act as a makeshift stake – that the Original vampire gasped in realization. 

“What are you doing?” Rebekah was at her side in a flash, eyes wide with surprise when the young vampire merely offered her a mischievous grin. 

“Working off some stress, like I said.” Rosalie replied, pausing to slip on the leather gloves that the tall lackey insisted would give her better grip. She’d rolled her eyes but she hadn’t argued. Not even after slipping them on and frowning at how much of her arm they took up. 

“By taking part in one of the most dangerous sports known to man?” Rebekah was horrified and rightly so because at that very moment, down below in the dugout arena, the bull started bucking like some kind of possessed demon and amply embedded its horn in a now howling vampire’s side. “If I bring you back with so much as a hair out of place, do you even know what Klaus will do to me? If you die again, he’ll reduce this city to a bloody puddle.” 

But Rosalie didn’t seem deterred, she waved off the Original’s concern and made a mental note to ask Klaus if he’d gone about wiping out entire towns or something after she’d been sacrificed for his ritual. “Don’t even worry about it. I don’t plan on getting taken out by a bull. And Klaus will never have to know.” 

The young vampire patted at her protective gear as if to assure she would be more than safe. There was no assurance and so Rebekah reached for the only thing she could think of. The only thing those in Klaus’ life cared for. His approval. 

“He’d disprove, you know? Vampire or not, he’d never agree to let you do a man’s sport. Especially not one this dangerous.” 

But Rosalie just snorted – neither convinced nor swayed by anything Rebekah was saying. “I don’t need anyone’s approval to do anything, Rebekah. Besides...you strike me as a woman who knows that us girls can do anything a man can do. And chances are, we can probably do it better too.” 

Rebekah blinked, momentarily thrown by the genuine grin that young vampire bestowed on her. It was bright. Conspiratorial. Like she was part of the fun and not just looking in from the outside. As if she was more than just a scowling sister her brother’s girlfriend was trying to win over. 

Such a smile shouldn’t have been enough for her to concede and yet she found herself stepping aside a flicking a glare at the tall rodeo clown that had swooped in to tell Rosalie that she was next. “All she needs to do is hold on for ten seconds?” 

The clown nodded, eyes flicking past them to gauge the temperament of the very livid bull. “Ten seconds or more. All she needs to do is hold on tight and keep her hands off the bull. It’s not that dangerous...” 

His words died off as Rebekah glowered at him in a way that told him to stop speaking nonsense. She turned back to Rosalie, frowning as another clown rushed over to help the petite vampire ease onto the bull’s back. “10 seconds, Rosalie. You get 10 seconds of thrill riding and then I want you off of that beast’s back. And try not to get maimed, will you? I shudder to think what Klaus would do to that bull.” 

Then the bucking chute opened wide and off the bull went – storming into the arena with the small vampire on its back. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Gloria’s Bar held no evidence that it had been the location of scrap between a hybrid and a vampire just the night before. Nothing was out of place. Not even a single broken chair or a table askew. What was different, however, was the large number of candles now scattered through the establishment – not yet lit but in obvious preparation for whatever spellcasting would take place next. 

Stefan found Klaus at the bar, glaring at Gloria as she poured over the grimoire in her hands – her spell searching was apparently taking too long and accompanied by the fact that that she still needed to see Rebekah to get anywhere, it was unlikely that any progress would be made anytime soon. 

He wondered if he could subtly convince Rosalie to go on having fun with Rebekah for as long as possible. The more time he had to keep them from discovering the true whereabouts of the necklace – and its wearer – the better. 

“You,” Gloria called, gaze snapping towards him so suddenly that he barely stopped his eyes from widening in surprise. Did the witch already see what he was hiding? Did she know just what a delicate line he was toeing- 

“Help me bring out my books from the back. One of my tome must have a spell that can help me find something without anything to go on.” 

He stifled the relief sigh but didn’t object when the witch gestured for him to follow her through a door labeled _Employees Only_. She led him through the bright hallway, took a right and then pushed into an office that was as elegantly themed as the witch that it belonged to. 

She never so much as spared him a glance as she headed straight for her bookshelf, pulling out worn and tattered leather-bound books that she abruptly pushed into his arms – he was the pack mule. No wonder she hadn’t even tried to ask Klaus to make himself useful. In as foul as mood as he was, even suggesting it might have ended in heads rolling. 

Stefan didn’t know where the confidence came from. Didn’t know why he dared ask a witch that was obviously loyalty to the hybrid in some shape – probably only because she valued her life. But she was powerful, that much was clear, and maybe that was why the question just came tumbling out. 

“Is there any way to determine if a vampire has been compelled?” 

The witch paused her searching, fingertips curling around the edge of a book that she made no attempts to pull out just yet. “Still bitter because Klaus took your memories away? He gave them back, didn’t he?” 

She turned away from the shelf, dark eyes searching and whatever she saw there in his face had her cackling in amusement. 

“Right. For a girl, of course. It’s always a girl.” 

Gloria went back to her searching, turning her attention to another shelf opposite her wall – one layered with jars of herbs and what looked like dried out insects. It was only as she went about scanning the labels that she continued on. 

“Hybrid or not, have you seen that pretty face? Klaus has never had any need to compel unwilling women. They line themselves up for a chance to be the queen to his twisted reign – all in vain, of course. But that girl? She’s the last one who would ever have to be compelled to show him true affection.” 

“She’s not behaving like herself.” Stefan insisted before firing off a list of things that worried him – things he hoped would trigger a reaction in the witch that would let him know if she was hiding things. "She’s forgetting people. Her emotions are all over the place - heightened in ways that seem to shake her to her to her core.” 

The witch didn’t duck her head to avoid his gaze. She didn’t twitch with secrets. In a way, what she did was so much was worse. 

She nodded her head in full and undeniable understanding. 

“Well, that is to be expected. Things have never progressed this far along and never this quickly either. Of course, this is the first time Klaus has been a true hybrid. It’s different this time. Uncharted territory for the first time in so long. All these things do factor into an account. Really, it’s not strange at all.” 

He couldn’t grasp what she was saying. What she was implying. And he certainly couldn’t understand why she said it as if though it was so simple. Forgetting people and having genuine affection for the big bad hybrid that sacrificed you didn’t sound simple – or sane. But the witch wasn’t finished with her musings. 

“It’s only natural that her emotions would be battling inside her. Only natural for her mind to try and lessen the burden of all that heightened emotion by wiping the slate clean - by removing potential conflict that could hurt her. Vampire or not, she was human not long ago. She doesn’t have an inner wolf or beast to protect her mind from all that she’s learning – all that she’s feeling. Nothing to tell her what she is to him. The frequency must still be jammed – Klaus has too much baggage for it to be easy or an on-sight occurrence. It might take years before they get where they’re meant to be...but the urge must still be there. Poor thing. She has no idea.” 

She was talking in terms, in riddles, that made no sense. It was getting on his nerves. “What frequency? What urge?” 

Gloria’s gaze snapped towards him and he didn’t like the grin that stretched across her face. It was conspiratorial and he had a sinking feeling this was one secret he didn’t want to have any part of. 

“The mating urge, of course.” 


	8. CHAPTER 7

The mind is an incredible thing. The job of the conscious, and unconscious mind, after all, is to form a coherent story from our experiences and the sensations that follow us through our daily lives. And more often than not, the mind knows when it has something to fear. 

It’s a gnawing feeling. A strange sensation that prickles over your skin and makes the hair at the back of your neck stand up. A tug at the back of your usually all too oblivious mind. The gathering of sweat at your fingertips that you probably don’t even notice until it’s too late. Because as incredible as the mind is; if the sixth sense is not honed by experience, the chances are that you’ll never even know the strange sensation causing all kinds of discomfort to you and your body has to do with fear. 

But Stefan Salvatore was no inexperienced human with a lot to learn. He’d known death. He’d known burning hunger. And he knew quite well what it felt like to be held tightly in the grips of fear. 

He’d felt it creeping upon him when Rosalie had returned to Gloria’s Bar with Rebekah in tow. Had felt it start to slither up his leg when the witch used the Original, who had worn the lost necklace for over a thousand years, as an anchor to search for its current whereabouts. He’d felt it coil around him when he returned to the bar later, without Klaus in tow, knowing that dangerous line he’d been toeing had been exposed. It had struck right alongside Klaus when the hybrid had discovered he wasn’t truly committed to his cause. And it had squeezed around his heart when he’d awoken to realize all his careful toeing of that dangerous line had amounted to nothing. 

Klaus had returned to Mystic Falls to see for himself just what Stefan had been hiding. The beating, human heart of Elena Gilbert wouldn’t stay undiscovered for long. Not from a curious and determined hybrid and not in a town this small. 

There was no warning he could give. No message he could deliver that would help. Fleeing wasn’t an option. Fighting was futile. They were all back right to where they’d begun – on the verge of yet another sacrificial bloodbath. They had come full circle. 

He awoke to a pounding head and the sight of Rebekah glowering at him from the open back door of the van – the look in her eyes was as sharp as daggers and he vaguely wondered if she was part of reason why he felt like he’d been hit by a train. Repeatedly. 

“Oh, he lives.” The Original muttered, her voice sarcastic but still very much controlled. It was hard to discern from her expression or her tone just how much had already been discovered. 

‘What happened?” He asked as he sat up, rubbing at the stiffness at his neck. Just rubbing at the tense muscle, he could guess fairly well enoug, but Rebekah had no qualms confirming his suspicions. 

“You took quite the beating. My brother’s been breaking your neck all afternoon. Quite the temper.” 

She didn’t sound too upset about it. In fact, the beating her brother had inflicted on him seemed to have toned down at least some of her own anger. Some, not all. You never could fully please a woman scorned – and he as the guilty party would be a fool to try. 

Choosing his words carefully, he pushed to his feet. He glanced around to see if Klaus was waiting in hiding somewhere, ready to pounce and snap his neck again for good measure. But the hybrid was nowhere in sight. That did not bode well – and there was the heart clenching grip of fear again. “Why did Klaus bring us back to Mystic Falls? Where is he now?” 

His line of questioning seemed to annoy the Original, an unimpressed blade to her mouth. Even angry Rebekah was heartbreakingly beautiful – fitting, perhaps, because he had certainly stomped on the love that to her was no even a cold minute old. “You can stop playing dumb now. It didn’t take him long to find out what you’ve been hiding. Failing to mention that the other doppelgänger was still alive was a big mistake. You’ve made quite a lot of people very upset.” 

She angled her body to the side and glanced back, giving him a perfect view of the small figure furiously pacing back and forth in the dark in front of the truck. If it was at all possible to see the fumes of rage rising from another person, then he was quite sure it would have been smoking off of Rosalie’s body. And she was muttering about maiming and murdering to boot. 

“I’ll kill him.” Rosalie swore to no one in particular - more a promise to herself than anything else. “I’m going to bash his head in and _then_ I’ll plow his ass with a god damn crowbar.” 

More vivid threats poured out by the second and Stefan hoped more than anything that the _he_ she was currently cursing in several languages wasn’t him. He didn’t particular like imagining himself in graphic scenarios that ranged from being skinned alive to being force fed his own balls – the mildest of the threats that seemed strange and out of place when uttered by such a pretty face. 

“To think someone so small could be so fierce. Perhaps fate does know what it’s doing.” Rebekah seemed to echo his thoughts, sounding all too amused and quite pleased with that little fact too. 

Her comment earned her a glare and he felt himself automatically move to cover his family jewels when that piercing glare flicked past the Original and landed on him. In the midst of her ranting, she hadn’t paid them much mind and as scary as the ranting was, perhaps it was better than the pain those eyes promised as they pinned him down. 

“But maybe I should start with you.” Rosalie muttered, still sounding like she was more talking to herself than actually addressing him. “You’re a little more killable than an Original hybrid, aren’t you? Because if you’d told me that my sister was alive, then maybe I could have been prepared. Maybe my sister would be safe instead of being thrust into danger while I can’t get to her because Klaus went and decided to have a witch magically handcuff me to an Original babysitter!” 

“They’ll fade eventually.” Rebekah muttered to the young vampire as she held up her wrist to study a pale, almost translucent, stringlike cuff that wound around her wrist and trailed out the truck to the end of another identical cuff wrapped around Rosalie’s wrist – safe for a few feet, the young vampire wouldn’t be getting far even if she tried. “By then the cow will be dead and you can try to rip my brother a new one.” 

Rosalie seemed like she was fighting for patience – like she was trying to keep herself from doing something stupid like rushing at the Original vampire. Her eyes fluttered shut, her breaths coming out in sharp, quick sessions. “I don’t want my sister dead, Rebekah.” 

The Original vampire waved her off, tone still placating. “You’ll lose one and gain one. See? Balance.” 

It was stupid of Stefan to think he could use their little back and forth as a distraction. It was stupid to assume that Rebekah wouldn’t be as strong as her brothers he’d faced before – to forget that she was as much an Original as they were. And it was stupid to forget for even a second that she was still a woman scorned. 

In a twisted way, he deserved the vicious attack of the crowbar stabbing through his stomach. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Feeling powerless was not a good feeling. It was a feeling that hit you like a tidal wave – hard and fast. And it could drag you down into the dark depth like nothing else – leaving you powerless, feeling obsolete and all too bitter. 

There was this notion that you were never as truly powerless as you felt – that it was all in the mind and nothing else. Rosalie wondered if the notion had been uttered by humans who lived mundane lives and had never been made to feel helpless as a hybrid and Original went about hunting their siblings and friends down. 

Rosalie hadn’t ever felt so powerless – not since that night when the breaking of a curse had hung on the terms that the hearts of her loved ones stopped beating. A necessary evil, Klaus had called it. He would probably dub whatever unfolded next just as necessary. Clearly the creation of hybrids was not something he would stop pursuing. Not even if she asked. 

And she had asked. When that had proven futile, she’d tried her best to persuade Klaus that her sister deserved to live a normal human life along with Jeremy. Every word had fallen on deaf ears. The lives of her family, the lives of her friends, these were things that simply did not register very high on the scale of things that were important to him. 

Klaus wasn’t the type of man she could ever bring home. He would never have her friends and family chortling at his jokes or feeling like he was part of the gang. He wasn’t the man who would banter with her sister or played video games with her brother – as things stood Elena and Jeremy would never, ever approve. He would never put on the charm and show them affection or grow to care for them the way you might expect of a partner. And he had never falsely promised he would either. 

Klaus had never pretended to be anything but what he was. A fact she had known all too well. Something a part of her accepted – understood even and she’d never expected him to be anything but what he was. She’d been an all too willing accomplice – driven by her boredom and the intensity of all the new experiences life as a vampire had to offer – when he’d gone hunting for werewolves to experiment on. 

And not once had she intervened. Not once had she objected. Truth be told, she hadn’t even cared that they were leaving a blood trail of bodies and ripped off heads all up and down the state. She hadn’t cared until her friends and family were once again in threat of joining the body count. 

God, she was a hypocrite and as she reluctantly trailed behind Rebekah dragging a squirming Tyler into the gym and caught sight of the identical face of her twin – torn between a mix of horror and surprise – she found that she didn’t even care. She would happily go back to hunting unsuspecting werewolves to experiment on and leaving a trail of bodies in their wake, if it meant she could remove all the danger that Klaus being in Mystic Falls represented to her loved ones. 

Tyler’s cursing as the Original tightened her hold on him and ordered him to hush was enough to startle Elena out of her frozen surprise – her wide eyes darting to the side to make sure Bonnie and Matt were seeing the same sight she saw, that it wasn’t just another dream. 

But it wasn’t just another dream – not if the mirroring shocked expressions of their friends was anything to go by. After so much time spent hoping, chasing and searching, Rosalie _was_ here. And as she fidgeted with some strange looking cuff around her wrist, it seemed as if though she would much rather be somewhere far away. 

Elena surged forward, the desperate need to hug her sister – to see that she was truly fine- strong enough to override the terror of the situation. But there was nothing quite like a hybrid doing the exact same thing to stop you right in your tracks. 

“There’s my girl.” Klaus was at Rosalie’s side in an instant, cupping her chin and tilting it up to get a good look at those liquid brown eyes raging with anger that had not yet been acted upon. He rubbed the pad of thumb across the line of her jaw, as soothing of a gesture as he could offer considering what laid ahead. Clearly, he knew to attempt anything more intimate put him in the risk of having his face clawed off. 

“If I could have spared you from this particular festivity, I would have, little one. But keeping track of all the moving vital parts is much harder than expected. I’m afraid I’ve grown quite accustomed to Stefan’s helping hand over the summer and as he is currently on a little time out, I’ve been forced to make use of Rebekah.” 

But she didn’t smile up at him. Instead her face puckered up in irritation as he gestured towards Tyler – the moving vital part that would either see success or be dubbed another failure. “Find a different werewolf, Klaus.” 

Klaus hummed a terribly thoughtful sound as his head tilted curiously at the request. He considered her for a moment, blue eyes darting across her face in search of something – whether he found it or not did not seem to matter because not even a second later he snapped his fingers like he had just found a clue to an unsolvable case. 

“Ah, that’s right! Katerina did mention something about the werewolf when she did her brief stint as my reluctant informant. Another one of your former paramours, am I correct?” His gaze darted to the side to assess the werewolf, but there was nothing predatory to his gaze – nothing that said he found the squirming male, or the position he might have once held in her heart, a threat. In fact, he seemed more amused than anything else. “But now I find that I like the poetry of _this_ werewolf even more than before, little one. There’s a part within a man that will always hold his first love dear – that would forever do anything to protect her. Please her. Why should that not extend to the new partner at your side when he has the potential to become my first successful hybrid?” 

It seemed as if though Rebekah was tired of trying to keep hold of the squirming werewolf and she happily took the opportunity to shove him at her brother the moment he turned his attention to them. In a way she had shoved him right into the true danger’s arms. 

“I’m going to make this very simple,” Klaus began as he spun the still cursing Tyler around to face Elena and their friends – the pleas and demands for him to release the werewolf falling on deaf ears. “Every time I attempt to turn a werewolf into a vampire hybrid, they die during the transition. It's quite horrible, actually.” 

It was not the simple kind of explanation you would have wanted followed by the Original hybrid going right on ahead with the attempting the very process he’d called horrible. But Klaus was nothing if not thorough and there was nothing that could get a point across better than a little demonstration. Really, they should have all known that him feeding Tyler his blood was inevitable. 

“I need you to find a way to save my hybrids, Bonnie. And for Tyler's sake...You better hurry.” 

Rosalie’s gaze fluttered shut – trying to shield her eyes from the act she knew would soon follow. Her ears were not saved from the same horror. The snap that sounded – the unmistakable sound of bone breaking – had her heaving a tired and all too exasperated sigh. 

There was no going back now. The hybrid had started his new game and now the clock was ticking away. She could only hope that when time ran out, that the people in this room would still be standing – that Tyler wouldn’t be reduced to the horrible looking failed experiments that she’d felt no sympathy for before. But for that to happen, Bonnie would have to play right along with the game, whether she wanted to or not. 

When she opened her eyes, she found that Klaus had thrown Tyler aside and shell-shocked Matt was now kneeling beside his friend – his fingers trembling as he checked for a pulse that wasn’t scheduled to return for some time. 

“He killed him.” 

Matt said it in a way that echoed the shock etched onto his face. He seemed unable to fully grasp it – to believe it could be real – even if only because grasping meant that he’d just witnessed a hybrid snap his best friend’s neck. 

“He’s not dead.” Rosalie muttered, the silk of her voice, though a sound they had missed, did not comfort them as it normally did - not when she had no comfort to give. “Klaus’s blood will turn him into a vampire.” 

Klaus nodded his agreement, sounding all too pleased with the way things were going. “And if Bonnie's successful, he'll live through his transition. Go on, then. Go and fetch your grimoires and enchantments and what-not. I'll hold on to Elena...for safe-keeping.” 

He crossed the gym and grabbed ahold of her twin’s arm. His hold was firm – rough – and not even a hint of the gentleness that she’d come to know could be seen in the way he handled Elena. He couldn’t have made it clearer if he tried and it was doubtful that anyone in the room hadn’t gotten the message loud and clear; Elena would never be met with the same kind of treatment that was extended towards her twin and if they didn’t hurry, he might show them just how little Elena’s wellbeing meant to him. 

It was a good thing that Bonnie didn’t try to play hero – that she didn’t do anything like try and attack Klaus. But as she hurried away with Matt, Rosalie was reminded that the witch could always change her mind. She could always convince herself that she could take on the hybrid. That hadn’t worked too well for her last time, faked death or not. And the next time she tried; she might just join the list of people who met their end after crossing the Original hybrid. 

“Bonnie.” She called out to her witchy friend as they reached the gym doors. Her friend turned to her, eyes swimming with frantic determination. “Don’t do anything stupid. You won’t come out on top. Just find a way to help Tyler.” 

Bonnie looked like she might reply – but whether it was to agree or protest was unclear. Instead, she clenched her jaw and gave a stiff nod before hurrying off with Matt. Poor, human Matt, who really had been thrown into the deep end of the pool when it came to all things supernatural. 

Rosalie’s gaze darted to the side when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, landing on a very disgruntled looking Rebekah as the Original went about scanning Elena from head-to-toe. What she saw she apparently didn’t like – not if the scowl on her face was anything to go by. 

“So, this is the other doppelgänger. Your sister is much prettier.” 

It was a stupid remark to make where identical faces were concerned. But as Rebekah turned away from her twin with a haughty sniff, she knew it was more than that. Elena was more than just the other doppelgänger to the Original. To Rebekah, Elena was the one who had stolen Stefan’s affection – his heart. And that was not a wound the Original would be getting over anytime soon. 

Klaus seemed to understand that just as well because he rolled his eyes at his sister’s pettiness and gestured for her to make herself useful with the still pulseless Tyler. “Enough, Rebekah. Take the werewolf boy elsewhere, would you? I fear my little one might wreak havoc if left in the company if her twin for too long.” 

Rebekah frowned at him but gave little protest as she swooped down to grab hold of one of the werewolf’s arms and began dragging him behind her towards the gym door. It was as Rosalie began to feel the strain of the translucent cuffs tightening, tugging her after the Original that her gaze met the hybrid’s. 

Rosalie Gilbert made for an enchanting sight even as she stood there bristling at her binds and cursing him to the seventh circle of hell. He shouldn’t have chuckled at what a beautifully fresh breath of air she was. Shouldn’t have found the delight that he did when she promised hell if he killed her sister, but he did. And the fire that bloomed in those liquid brown eyes made him all the more curious of what she would do when she was released from the magical cuffs. 

“Cheer up, little one. This will all be over soon - necessary evils and all that. Then we can channel your anger into something...a little more productive.” 


	9. CHAPTER 8

Caroline Forbes had a hangover. Or, at least, that was the way it felt as she woke up on the cold, hard, tiled floor – gaze blurry and her head pounding. The aching in her head was a cruel one. It flowed like a cold tide and made the task of opening her eyes feel rather impossible. How she wrenched them open, she wasn’t quite sure. Then again, all opening them and adjusting them did was make her wonder if she was in some kind of drunken haze. 

Why else would the beautiful girl, she could only just remember encountering in the hallway with Tyler, be sat at Alaric’s desk, scrolling through Caroline’s phone and looking like a bored warden? Her mind flashed with images – memories – and she was reminded that pretty faces weren’t to be underestimated. Least of all when that face belonged to a vampire. And Caroline was forgetting something very important in her hungover like haze too. She hadn’t been alone when that pretty face had attacked. 

“Where’s Tyler?” 

The girl didn’t so much as glance away from Caroline’s phone, fingers flicking across the screen as she poured over the content of the small electronic device. “He's dead. Ish.” 

Caroline scanned the classroom, bile rising in her throat as her gaze landed on the impossibly still form of Tyler Lockwood slumped on the floor behind her. Anxiety flooded her senses as she crawled her way towards him, flinching the moment her fingers touched his cold skin. 

Had it really been just moments ago? When his very presence had made her feel as if though she was on cloud nine and all she wanted was to bask in his embrace? And embrace she would never again get enjoy because he was gone - 

“Think of it as he’s having a nap. When he wakes up, he’ll be a hybrid.” 

Caroline’s blurry gaze, moist with unshed tears, darted up to regard the vampire to see she had finally lifted her gaze from the phone. But it wasn’t to take in the state of Tyler or Caroline. Instead her head was tilted curiously as she stared out into the dark hallway, a sigh escaping her as her arm seemed to fly out towards the door as if though she had no control of it. The arm jerked again, almost as if though it was being tugged. 

“You should really save your energy. The binds aren’t due to fade for quite some time.” 

Caroline’s ears perked as she caught a hint of swearing followed by a loud bang – she would bet anything that whoever was out there was taking their frustrations out on the poor lockers. Grumbling accompanied the sound of footsteps and for a reason she could not explain, she was hit with a wave of adoring nostalgia. 

There was movement at the classroom door and one single glance was enough to make her feel as if the world was spinning. That single look settled it. She _had_ to be drunk. Why else would Rosalie Gilbert, the very best friend she’d been asking Bonnie to find all summer, be striding into the room and bending her head over in frustration right next to vampire who had attacked them? 

“Rosalie?” She asked quietly, the word feeling strange on her tongue. They’d spent the entire summer trying to avoid saying her name in front of Elena, who had been spiraling without her twin. They’d talked in codes, tried to gently talk around her in a way that wouldn’t bring a sad pang to Elena’s eyes. It hadn’t taken long for them to realize that it was for more than just Elena’s benefit. Life without Rosalie had left a giant hole in them all and it had festered the longer she was away. 

At first the brunette bent over the desk, face hidden by a silky mast of curls, didn’t respond and Caroline was sure that it meant she’d seen wrong. That she’d gone looking for ghosts in places they would never be. But then that head lifted and the world was spinning once again. 

“Hello, Caroline. It’s been a while.” 

It had been a while. But the long summer had apparently not been as rough on Rosalie as it had been on them. She was still extraordinarily beautiful - as the doppelgangers tended to be- the mischievous wavy haired counterpart to her sweet natured twin - two different sides of the same coin. And that beauty would remain forever, untouched and unchanging because the Rosalie Gilbert before her was now a vampire, she knew it as well as Damon had tried to tell them it could be a possibility. 

This wasn’t the reunion she’d been imaging in her head. It wasn’t filled with laughter, happy tears or sweet embraces. She wouldn’t even dare attempt a hug because the vampire beside Rosalie gave her the sharpest glare when she even attempted to push to her feet. 

But Rosalie didn’t seem too touched or moved by the reunion either. There was an anxious air to her that Caroline hadn’t noticed before. The brunette’s fingers tapped against the desk and every so often her gaze would dart between the door and her wrist – wound with an almost translucent looking cuff that had also escaped Caroline’s notice. 

She was worried and if Rosalie was worried while she stood so comfortably next to vampire that had attacked them, then that didn’t bode well for any of them. 

The vampire swiping through her phone was frowning, an annoyed pucker to her brows as baby blue eyes glanced between the two old friends. She waved the phone at Caroline. “There are a lot of photos of you two in this thing. Just how close are you?” 

Caroline’s gaze flicked to the phone, gaze softening ever so slightly as she caught sight of the picture on the screen. Two cheerleaders stood latched onto each other; wide grins plastered on their face as they stared at each other instead of into the camera. It had been simpler times. Back before the supernatural had invaded their times. 

“She’s my best friend.” Caroline’s voice was thick with emotion even to her own ears and she swallowed down the urge to cry, her gaze sought her friend and she found Rosalie eyeing the picture with an unreadable expression. The vampire holding her phone was much easier to read and she flinched back from the displeased snarl that crossed that beautiful face. 

“Put away your claws, Rebekah.” Rosalie sighed at the vampire, her tone dry as she walked over to the windows, liquid brown eyes peering out into the dark. “You’re not exactly my favorite person right now. Let’s try and reel that temper back in. I’d rather not all my friends end up dead tonight.” 

Rebekah frowned at the brunette, an almost petulant pout to her lips. “Why are you being mean? I thought we were bonding in Chicago. You’ve been cranky since we left.” 

Rosalie cast her a look that begged the Original vampire not to pretend like she didn’t know exactly why she was in a bad mood. “I don’t know why I have to keep repeating myself. What about _I don’t want my sister killed_ don’t you get?” 

“The part where you value her existence.” 

The brunette’s eyes fluttered shut and it seemed as if though she was fighting to herself from saying something that would be _very_ mean. Instead, she turned away and went right back to staring out the window. 

But Rebekah wasn’t pleased. If anything, her frown had deepened. She’d spent enough time around her brother to know when someone was displeased with her. It had never been a pleasant feeling and she found herself desperate to salvage what had begun to blossom in the shady, vampire invested club back in Chicago. 

“Does Mystic Falls have a rodeo? I’ll take you as soon as my brother relieves me from Werewolf watch duty.” 

There was no answer. No hint that she’d even slightly doused the flames that had ensnared the very being of the young vampire all night. The tight clench to her jaw and the anger simmering on the surface still very much remained. Rosalie looked like she was in threat of exploding the more time ticked by. She looked like she needed to punch something. Punch it hard, too. 

Sensing that this was nowhere near a battle that would be easily won, Rebekah turned her attention back to the phone in her hand – mind absentmindedly making a list of things she could try to appease the girl later. She flicked through the photos, already a little bored with Caroline’s social life, when it landed on one that made her want to barf. 

Stefan and Elena side-by-side, looking all soft and lovey dovey, was like a blow to her to her gut that reminded her just why it would be better for them if the other doppelganger did drop dead by the end of the night. She didn’t, however utter any of this aloud. She’d much rather the ticking time bomb, that was the little vampire in the corner, exploded when her brother was near. 

She scowled at the photo, fingers tapping for the small little trash icon she’d accidentally tapped a few times before. And not so accidentally a few times after once she realized what it did. Her finger hovered over the little icon, ready to erase the photo – and hopefully the very memory – when her gaze caught on something she was sure she couldn’t be seeing. 

There was no way the doppelganger had gotten her man _and_ her necklace, right? But as she zoomed in on the photo, there was no way she could lie to herself. That necklace was unmistakable. It had been hers for over a thousand years – she could recognize it anywhere. And it sure as hell did not belong on the neck of the doppelganger that had stolen Stefan’s affection from her. 

She rounded on the vampire on the window who arched a brow at the rage now etched onto the Original’s face. But the Original merely shoved the phone at her, zooming in until the screen was filled with the blurry image of the necklace. 

“Why is your sister wearing my necklace?!” 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The scene staged out in the gym was far worse than anything Rosalie could have imagined. She had heard the screams. They’d been impossible to miss – so much so that she was pretty sure she would have heard them with human ears with the way sounds seemed to echo and grow in an empty school. 

Stuck in a school with a vengeful hybrid, you didn’t have to guess why humans were screaming. 

But it was far worse. Far worse because the reasons for those screams were not Klaus but Stefan and he was feeding on their classmates all the while a horrified and teary-eyed Elena watched on. Her twin was shaking, sobs rattling through her chest and she knew without a doubt that until this moment, Elena had never thought Stefan was capable of this kind of carnage. He’d fallen off the wagon before, but that was far more preferable to the ripping of head that was ensuing all around them. 

It wasn’t the bodies, the blood or the ripped off heads that made it such a bad sight for Rosalie. It was the horrified fear that had ensnared her twin who was being forced to watch it all. A twin she hadn’t even known was still alive until mere hours ago. And if it could keep Elena safe and that terror off her face, Rosalie would happily go back to a time when neither she nor Klaus knew Bonnie had aided in helping Elena cheat death. 

Elena didn’t deserve a supernatural life. She deserved a normal, human life in which she could go to nursing school, have a family and grow old. As simple as that sounded, it was all Elena had ever wanted and as much as Rosalie had teased the mundane dream, it was all she now wanted for her sister. 

If only Elena wasn’t another doppelganger and if only, she didn’t have a talent for inspiring dark and vengefully dangerous hate from Stefan’s ex-girlfriends. 

Rebekah was the worst kind of enemy to have and Elena had made her one without ever even trying. It was no wonder her twin wasn’t prepared for the level of pure loathing burning in those baby blue eyes as Rebekah loomed over her, a picture of seething rage. 

“Where is it?! Where is my necklace?!” 

“What are you talking about?” Klaus frowned at his sister, gaze darting to the side to Rosalie for answers but she watching the exchange between their siblings, a displeased purse to her lips. 

His sister rounded on him and then all but shoved a small phone into his hands, fanatically pointing at the image on the screen. “She has my necklace. Look!” 

And look he did. He didn’t have the bitter feeling of seeing Stefan and Elena together to distract him as his sister did – finding the necklace in question around the photographed doppelganger’s neck took but seconds. “Well, well. More lies.” 

Rebekah was back to glaring at Elena, her words bitten out through clenched teeth. “Where...is it?” 

Her twin’s own eyes glanced at the phone, big doe-like eyes widening even more as she realized the necklace she’d held so dear was part of the reason why the Original vampire was looking at her with so much pure hatred. “I don’t have it anymore.” 

It was possible that no answer Elena could have given would have pleased Rebekah - she already loathed the girl’s very existence far too much. She was a vengeful creature and she struck like a fox intent on ridding the world of the pesky rabbit that had avoided its fangs for far too long. 

Rosalie moved on instinct, she was at her twin’s side in an instant and begrudgingly thankful to Klaus for ripping his sibling away from her sister’s neck and shoving her aside. “Knock it off!” 

But she didn’t want to feel grateful to him. Not in that very moment. Not when her twin was clutching at the wrist of the hand she’d pressed to the gaping wound in her neck, as if the very act alone could stop the bleeding – doe-like eyes teary eyed and filled with the pain that came from having your throat nearly ripped out. 

“You’re here.” Elena breathed and she clutched at her like she was scared Rosalie would up and disappear if she didn’t hold on tight enough. “You’re actually here.” 

Rosalie frowned at her twin, silently wondering how something as small as that could possibly register higher on the scale of importance when Elena’s neck had come so close to being ripped out. “And you’re bleeding.” 

Elena’s eyes widened some and this time actually looked sheepish. Uncertain hesitance seemed to radiate from her as her grip loosened around Rosalie’s wrist. “I’m sorry...Is it bothering you? I can, uh...I can move?” 

“I’m fine, Elena.” Rosalie rolled her eyes at her sister. Typical Elena to be worried about causing someone else discomfort when she was the one in real danger. 

And that danger was still very much real and very close because Rebekah was still out for blood even as she fussed at Klaus who stood squarely in her way – blocking any further attack on the doppelgänger whose fate was still undecided. But that decision could be made any time soon. Especially with Rebekah throwing out demands. 

“Make her tell me where it is, Nik!” 

The hybrid turned towards them, his gaze darting between the two identical faces. It seemed as if though he was gauging Rosalie’s reaction to see where her head was at as she continued to press a hand to her sister’s wounded neck. He didn’t ask, however, instead he settled his gaze on Elena. “Where’s the necklace? Be honest. 

“I’m telling the truth.” Elena insisted, tone pleading for him to believe her. “Katherine stole it.” 

“Katerina.” Klaus muttered and there was so much disdain laced in that single word that one might wonder if Katherine got a deathly chill wherever she was out in the world. “Of course. Well, that's unfortunate. If we had the necklace it would make things a whole lot easier for your witch, but since we're doing this the hard way, let's put a clock on it, shall we?” 

It was if though it wasn’t enough that Tyler’s fate now had a ticking clock. Now they had gym clock counting down the seconds and taunting them some more, the very sound of the buzzer startling Elena some more. It should have ended there, but Klaus was nothing if not thoroughly devious. 

Compelling Stefan was just another drop in the bucket that was already beyond spilling over. 

“Twenty minutes. If Bonnie hasn't found a solution by then, I want you to feed again. Only this time, I want you to feed on Elena. You know you want to.” 

“Klaus!” Rosalie snapped, the rage that had dissipated when the need to take care of her sister had become far more important igniting right on back. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“I’m giving everyone some little motivation.” He said simply as he turned away from Stefan and then he was in front of them in a flash. Sparing Elena no further mind, he bent down and before Rosalie could even protest, he’d thrown her over his shoulder and was making his way towards the gym doors, leaving a still magically cuffed Rebekah to trail behind them. 

“Come now, little one. I do believe we’ve let your anger simmer long enough.” 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

There was but a single light that greeted them as Klaus entered the Woodshop class and promptly deposited her on the floor – gentle enough in his handling to make sure her feet were placed securely on the ground. 

Sanded and stained wooden planks littered the work tables around them, the flowing, musky scent of the materials one that could cloud the senses. Only every other bench had a constructed object that was starting to resemble a bird house. 

It was a nostalgic sight and it hit her with a bitter pang that just about left her feeling breathless. The bird house itself meant nothing to her, but it felt like a lifetime ago when Jeremy had used woodshop and lies about building bird houses to escape Elena and Jenna’s attempts at parenting him. The fact that she didn’t even know if he was still getting up to the same kind of trouble was a hard pill to swallow despite the fact that she thought her choice on the matter had already been made. 

It had a numbing kind of effect – or it would have if rage hadn’t been burning at the front of her mind for the entire night. And she really did not like the amused quirk to Klaus’ lips as he watched her run her fingertips across the roof of a bird house. 

“You left my sister in the gym with a vampire compelled to rip her throat out if Bonnie fails to give you answers...And yet you’re here smiling at me.” 

He arched a brow at her, that amusement never dimming in the slightest. “Who else would I be smiling at, little one?” 

She caught sight of Rebekah outside the door, but the Original vampire seemed wise enough not actually venture inside. Or maybe she was just still much too caught up in fuming over all things Elena. 

“She’s my _sister_ , Klaus.” She stressed the word in case he hadn’t gotten the memo. Elena wasn’t just another doppelganger – an interchangeable vessel with magical blood. Not to her. And she needed him to see that – needed him to realize how much it would hurt her if he was once again behind the reason why her sister’s heart could stop beating. “And Tyler is my friend. How could you expect me to be fine with this? Again? And don’t talk to me about necessary evils. I get that you’re mad at Stefan, but compelling him to do all that isn’t necessary and you can’t convince me otherwise.” 

He had the gull to shrug her – ever the picture of nonchalance. “I just invited him to the party, little one. He’s the one dancing on the table.” 

“Just stop.” She said, the plea in those liquid brown eyes as clear as day. She sounded weary, tired even as she closed the distance between them and pressed her hands to his chest. “Why can’t we just leave? Isn’t it enough that _you’re_ a hybrid?” 

But he shook his head at her and she was once again privy to that soul deep loneliness that haunted his dark blue eyes. He raised his hand and brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. “To walk this earth the only one of your species is not a curse I’d wish on others. And I will not endure it any longer either. Bonnie will give me answers and if it means your sister should meet her end at my hands, then that is to be her fate.” 

“Even if it means I might end up hating you in the process?” 

That seemed to sober him, the amused glint fading from his eyes for the first time all night. He gripped her chin, his gaze searching her own to see just how serious she was. “We have all of eternity. You’ll get over it.” 

The breath that escaped her was disbelieving and she shook her head as she pushed out of his arms. She slumped over the closest work table, the arms tightly gripping at the edge of the table the only thing that was seemingly centering her. But then she did something that was strange - completely out of character. 

Rosalie gave a resigned sigh, like she was accepting the situation for what it was, and the very sound of it made his brows furrow. His little vampire was stubborn – immensely so – and he had been so ready for her to fight him tooth and nail- 

“You’re right. We have eternity. So, you’ll get over this too.” 

She was wickedly fast. She snatched up a hammer from the table and swung it right at his head – the sere impact sending vibrations up her arm as it collided with his unbelievably hard skull. He staggered back, more because of his own disbelieving surprise than anything else. But it was a moment she could take advantage of nonetheless. 

She traded the hammer for a broom, swiftly breaking it in half. She couldn’t severely hurt him, her already conflicted heart would never be able to bare it, but she could slow him down. Long enough for her to try and pass Elena off to someone who could take her and run. She would deal with the consequences of her actions later. 

Or so she thought. But Klaus was a hybrid and an Original at that. What newborn vampire could ever hope to keep up with him? And his recovery was one that came about in seconds and he caught her makeshift stake just as she made to plunge it into his stomach – a little page taken out of Rebekah’s book. 

He cast the makeshift shift aside and it clattered noisily on the concrete floor. For a moment they just stared at each other, a predatory stillness to him that should have unnerved her. He definitely should not have had her inner goddess fanning herself at how smoking hot his predatory bad ass ways were. 

God, she was a mess. And she needed to snap out of it. She found the hammer again easily but he was already stalking forward and within the blink of the eye, he had shoved all of the work bench’s content onto the concrete floor. 

“Well, now, little one.” He mused; voice dark but tinged with amusement he seemed incapable of truly hiding. He planted his hands on either side of her, effectively caging her in against the bench. “You never cease to amuse, now do you?” 

She didn’t answer and it was clear she wasn’t mean to as he leaned down to deliver a punishing bite to her lower lip. But she _was_ a stubborn thing and she turned her head away from him with a huff. It didn’t seem to hinder him at all as he instead turned his attention to her neck, savoring the scent as he pressed a long kiss to her traitorously jumping pulse. 

“I think this is our first fight, love.” 

She was left gasping as strong hands tangled in her hair, angling her head just the way he wanted, and the demanding mouth took hers. Klaus never kissed. He took, he possessed and he devastated her senses until nothing remained but him. It was a hungry, carnal kiss fed by his obvious delight that she’d done something as bold - as unexpected - as attack him. 

He pushed forward, inserting his thigh between her legs and hauling her closer by the tight grip he laid claim to her behind. He swallowed her moan before releasing a groan that matched the need of her own. She was always so responsive, so perfectly receptive – so undeniably _his._

Klaus couldn’t have stopped the animalistic, satisfied growl that rumbled through his chest even if he tried. 

Had her sister’s terror – her beating heart – not still been in the fore front of her mind, she would have happily let him continue devastate her body – the traitorous vessel wanted nothing but let him take her over and over again, desperate to give into the raw, primal lust that he never failed to ignite within her. 

But it was wrong and this wasn’t the time. 

It was an uphill battle to fight against the delicious lusty daze that clouded her mind. In fact, it seemed exceptionally impossible when he slowly snaked his hands under her dress and up her inner thighs. The dirty expletives breathed between kisses doing nothing to help her battle either. 

It seemed to take forever for her to gather her wits – to fight her way through the fog. And when she did, she not only remembered just how angry she was but the flames of her anger burned even brighter. The bastard knew her body much too well and she was letting him play it like some kind of sensual piano. 

It was hard for Klaus to know how he went from giving into the feverish need that she ignited within him one moment to flat on his back on the cold, concrete floor the next, shock vibrating through the lust filled daze clouding his own mind. 

Rosalie peered down at him, a mocking pout to her lips as she bent down to pat at his cheek. “The fight isn’t over yet, _love_.” 


	10. CHAPTER 9

The fight  _ was _ over – even if only because time was a cruel bastard. Twenty minutes were nothing to a vampire and yet as lives hung on the line, it just wasn’t enough. 

Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

Time was a thief and if left to its devious ways, the lifelines of those she held dear could soon run out just as the taunting minutes on the phone slipped by. It was one thing to know that time would someday - one day far, far into the future – claim the lives of her human and witchy companions while she remained unchanging. It was something she thought she’d have years to mull over, to get used to.

How was she to come to terms with the fact that she had not years but mere minutes set on a timer by a person who had shown her passion and all the excitement life as a vampire could hold? A person whose very existence thrilled and delighted her – and yet again he held the future of her loved ones in his hands.

Klaus, to his utmost credit, had seemed to understand that a part of her had needed to vent. Had understood that she needed to hit something. To hit  _ him _ . And he’d taken it like the indestructible hybrid he was – in a stride and with lips quirking an amusement. He had enjoyed their little tussle – he couldn’t have hidden his delighted chuckles even if he tried.

But twenty minutes were but a mere drop in the bucket to an Original hybrid and he had only so much time to indulge her before he went venturing off to see how Bonnie was fairing in getting him answers. It seemed he was still making the best use of the magical cuffs that linked her to Rebekah, who was still very much on werewolf and baby doppelganger vampire babysitting  duty .

The cuffs were starting to dim – seemingly growing more translucent the more time ticked away. Another silent taunt from the thief that was time, she was sure. The cuffs would fade, but not until time was ready for them to do so and possibly not until it was all much too late.

There was a guttural groan that echoed through the classroom and their attention was pulled to the one individual who might soon feel the cruel grip of time – and the zombie-like state that awaited him if Bonnie failed would not be fast and simple. 

It wasn’t Tyler’s fault that he’d finally woken up – but a part of Rosalie wished he might have stayed unconscious a moment longer. It was the whole awakening part of the process that she had been dreading in the first place. He wasn’t like the werewolves hidden away in the mountains. This was Tyler. The boy who used to pull her pigtails. The boy who had stolen her first kiss on a dare in kindergarten and many crayons to boot. He mattered. He was her friend and no matter how many times they had clashed over his bickering with Jeremy, this was not a fate she had ever wanted for him.

He was disorientated, unsure of where he was and even more confused about why exactly everything suddenly seemed both heightened and foggy at the same time. Not even Caroline’s reassuring tone, as she grasped onto him like she was trying to anchor him, seemed to fully hold him as his body struggled with the strange place that was the in-between for an almost hybrid.

“What’s going on?” Tyler demanded, his gaze flicking away from Caroline to the two figures at the desk and back – only to do a double take once he realized just who was sitting on the edge of the desk, right next to the blonde he was sure that had attacked him.

As strange as his senses were acting, his eyes hadn’t deceived him. Rosalie Gilbert  _ was _ seated on the desk and she was staring right back at him. But she didn’t smile. In fact, there was something quite sad that lingered in those liquid brown eyes as she took in the state of him. 

Rosalie Gilbert didn’t like pity. Not since the day pitying glances and murmurs were all that greeted her after the passing of her parents. The very idea of pity had left a bad taste in her mouth and yet she couldn’t help but look at Tyler and Caroline with just that; pity. This new passion, this unexplored potential love between the two, would amount to nothing if Bonnie didn’t find a way to save Tyler.

“Klaus has decided to turn you into a hybrid.” Rosalie muttered, silently wondering just how much more news she would have to break before sunrise. Would she have to visit Jeremy to tell him that Elena – she shook her head to free herself of that thought. “You’re in transition.”

Rebekah tutted, shaking her head as if in reprimand for not piling the full graveness of the story onto the male. “ Don't leave out the hard part, sweetheart. He'll only survive if the witch is successful. If not...He’s pretty much dead.”

It was clear that it didn’t matter to the Original what the outcome might be. It didn’t matter that Rosalie didn’t want any of them dead – that they were her friends and family. In fact, the only outcome Rebekah did seem to care about was making sure that Elena was very much dead before they left Mystic Falls. And as she held up the clock with its two taunting remaining minutes for them all to see, one could guess from the glee filled smile on her face that she was already imagining being all that much closer to that one little goal.

There were no footsteps to announce his arrival. Klaus didn’t stumble along like the average teenager. He strode like the predator he was – and in that very moment he came sauntering into the classroom, his grin mischievous and full of satisfied secrecy. He was like the cat who had gone and caught the precious little  tweety bird and she worried what that meant for her sister.

“Well, the verdict is in.” Klaus announced, his gaze flitting from face-to-face before it settled on his little vampire. He was always testing, always pushing and always curious to see how she would react to things. Rosalie was unpredictable – a true breath of fresh air - and after their little tussle, he wanted to see how she would react to what came next. “The original witch says the doppelgänger should be dead.”

Rebekah’s delighted grin was instant, as was the snarl of warning that escaped Rosalie as they both shot to their feet. But Rebekah paid the young vampire no mind – and Klaus found himself wondering if the stapler on the desk might soon become his little vampire’s next weapon if his sister didn’t reign in her obvious delight.

“Does that mean we can kill her?”

Klaus spared his sister but a brief glance, lips already twitching in amusement as he noticed his little vampire eyeing not the stapler but a pair of sharp looking scissors on the edge of the desk. “No, I’m fairly certain it means the opposite.”

That got her attention. Liquid brown eyes snapped towards him, wide and darting all over his face if though searching for any sign of truthfulness in his expression. Whatever she saw there had her slumping back against the desk and breathing a sigh of relief – the stiffness that had claimed her body melting finally.

The same, however, could not be said for Rebekah.

“What?!” The Original vampire hissed at her brother, her furious displeasure as plain as the scowl on her face. She never stopped glaring at her brother, not even as she moved to restrain Caroline who had attempted to shuffle back with Tyler in tow.

“Call it a hunch.” Klaus shrugged at his sister, her fiery glare bouncing off him in a way only a brother could ignore. His attention shifted to the werewolf and he held up a small test tube with dark red, almost black, liquid. “Elena’s blood. Drink it.”

Rosalie straightened, her relief evaporating like thin morning mist. “What? How did you get that? Where is my sister, Klaus?”

Caroline, on the other hand, was much less concerned about the  _ how  _ and far more worried about the reason  _ why  _ behind the test tube. She jerked forward in Rebekah’s punishing hold, panic rising from within her as she watched Tyler struggle to keep his gaze from small test tube with the mouthwatering scent that must have been calling to the new hunger within him. 

“No! No, no, no, Tyler, don't!”

“If he doesn't feed, he'll die anyway.” Klaus waved off Caroline’s concern and though it was quite clear that he more than anyone wanted the transition to be a success, he still wouldn’t mourn if Tyler ended up like the failed experiments like the werewolf pack. He would try and try again; after all, that was the true definition of madness, was it not?

“Consider this an experiment. It's okay.”

But it was hard to say if anything that happened in the past hours was truly okay. So many lines had been crossed. So many lives threatened. All in the name of necessary evils. And as Tyler lost to the new hunger clawing away inside him and gave in to drinking Elena’s blood, it was the one necessary evil that Rosalie hoped might pay off.

It didn’t seem like it would. Not at first. There was nothing easy about the process that came next. Elena’s blood did not make it a smoother, easier process – the coughing, the screaming and writhing were no less of an unpleasant sight than the zombie-like werewolf pack in the mountains had been. But this time Rosalie didn’t just watch with detached fascination. This time she did grimace and she did wince with each pain laced groan her werewolf friend gave.

She was truly a hypocrite and she couldn’t even begin to care.

It was hard to say for how long the werewolf’s pain lasted – putting a timer on a genuine moment of pain seemed cruel – but eventually it did end and it end with a guttural scream as Tyler clutched at his head with such a tight grip it was a  wonder, he didn’t crush his own skull.

Rosalie braced herself, readying herself for the sight of the bleeding eyes that would confirm how lost Tyler was – how impending his doom  was. That was, however, not the sight that greeted them when the male finally lifted his head. 

Wolf-like yellow eyes, beady and predatory, stared back at them – accompanied by fangs and veins that could only belong to the species that most werewolves called their enemy.

It was a sight that had the Original hybrid’s lips quirking in obvious delight as he took in the new and improved creature before them. “Well, that’s a good sign.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The Mystic Falls hospital was small. In fact, it was only thanks to the past few years and the increase in donations that it had upgraded from being just generous sized estate to a well-established medical ward. And business had been booming since people no longer had the much-preferred pit-stop that had been Grayson Gilbert to see to every mysterious cough and persistent headache.

There was nothing scowl worthy about the hospital but for Rebekah it was probably much less about the medical facility itself and much more about the new patient it now housed. A patient she’d much rather have seen in the morgue than being a reluctant blood  donor .

“So, the doppelgänger isn't the problem. Her blood is the solution.” Her displeasure couldn’t have been clearer. Not after an entire night spent talking and fantasizing about seeing said doppelganger meet a bloody end.

“Seems so.” Klaus muttered, eyes drifting away from the hospital to eye his little vampire who was lounging on the hood of the closest car, eyes shut and face tilted up at the night sky like she was trying to zone out the entire world.

The magical cuffs that had bound her to Rebekah had faded around a half hour after Tyler’s successful, but painful, transition. He’d half expected for her to make a run for it the moment they did fade, but she never did do the predictable thing. She hadn’t even gone in to see her twin and he half wondered if it was because she was keeping an eye on him or waiting for another opportunity to pounce. 

Both options would amuse and delight.

“How did you know?” Rebekah demanded, drawing his attention back to her and it was clear from the almost petulant pout to her lips that she would not stop whining about the human doppelganger staying alive until he shared at least something about his hunch with her. 

The pouting he could handle, it was the seething whining that might get his newfound source for the creation of hybrids killed. And that he wouldn’t allow.

Klaus offered his sibling an almost nonchalant shrug, despite knowing that his sister more than anyone knew the full story wasn’t one without true heartache. “Well, you know how much the original witch hated me. Do you honestly think I would do anything other than the opposite of what she says?”

“A thousand years in the grave and she's still screwing with you.” Rebekah’s tone was careful, thoughtful even and yet there was still  a undertone of barely hidden sadness that lingered no matter how hard she tried to reign it back in.

Her brother was much more skilled at reigning in the emotion than she was, a talent that one surely required over time when you were used to being feared or obstructed by those who sought to keep you cursed. “Well, it makes sense if you think about it from her perspective. It was her fail-safe in case I ever broke the hybrid curse. The doppelgänger had to die in order for me to become a hybrid, but if she was dead...”

“Then you couldn't use her blood to sire yourself a new species.” Rebekah finished for him, her own gaze darting past him to eye the young vampire who seemed content on ignoring them but was surely still listening. “And with all her cloaking and all her cursing, you could have kept losing...”

She let the sentence die out, letting it hang over them with the weight of words that didn’t need to be spoken aloud. 

Klaus hummed and that single sound betrayed far more emotion than he’d allowed his voice to hold before, dark blue eyes swimming with that soul deep loneliness that clung to him like a festering wound. “Leaving me alone for all time.”

“Are the hybrid’s necessary?” His sister’s voice was soft as were the baby blue eyes she directed up at them, question swimming in their depth. “The curse is broken. You’ve never gotten this far before. She’s  _ alive,  _ Nik. But you know how easily that could change. Don’t you want-”

“What I want is to take my girl, take my doppelganger and hybrid the hell out of this one-pony town.” He was curt, cutting her off with a voice that was as sharp as the daggers in his eyes that warned her to tread carefully. “You know, why don't you get the truck? I'll get the doppelganger.”

Rebekah looked like she might argue, like she might push the subject some more, but she was far smarter than to insist on opening up pandora’s box when it was clear there was still much her brother hadn’t told Rosalie. With a tired sigh, the Original vampire disappeared into the night, the whispers of her grumbling the only lingering showcase of just how reluctant her departure was.

With his sister gone, Klaus sidled up beside the car and allowed his gaze to drift over his little vampire. She didn’t open her eyes, didn’t so much as tilt as her head in acknowledgment. He might as well have been as insignificant as the wind breezing over in that moment.

“Tired, little one?” He asked carefully as he caught a stray curl as the wind rustled it across her face and tucked it safely behind her ear. There was no response and so he softened his tone some more, trying his best to coax her to him. “Come here.”

Liquid brown eyes finally snapped open, a single perfectly shaped brow arching at him in challenge. “Why?”

He read the simmering fire that raged in those eyes and knew without any doubt that her relaxed lounging was only skin deep – that she was trying to force some calm into herself that she just didn’t have. “Still mad, I see.”

The scoff that escaped her as she pushed herself to sit up straight was as sarcastic as the eye roll that accompanied it. “ _ No.  _ Why would I be mad that the only reason my sister is alive is because of a hunch? Everyone has that moment where their twin becomes a walking blood donor for a hybrid, so why would I be mad about that?”

Klaus drummed his fingers along the hood of the car, an impatient quirk that perfectly contradicted the patience he regarded her and her venting with. “There comes a time when loyalties are tested-”

“Don’t you dare.” Liquid brown eyes narrowed at him, the look telling him there was only so much more from him that she would tolerate. “You don’t get to tell me to choose between you and my loves ones. I won’t, so don’t even try it.”

It was unclear what displeased him more – her answer or the unmoving firmness that it had been uttered with. He frowned at her, his own hackles rising. “You’re mine-”

“And my loved ones are  _ mine.”  _ Rosalie snapped in turn; her tone insistent as she pushed off the hood of car and ignored the nerve-ending tingles of anticipation that coursed through her where their bodies brushed against each other. “I won’t apologize for wanting to keep them safe – for wanting them to be protected. Even from you.”

Klaus ground his teeth so hard, it was audible. It was clear that the conversation was not going the way he intended – in fact, it was probably a conversation he didn’t want to have and he was probably fighting the urge to snap at her.

Snapping she could handle. That she could work with and feed off – it would fuel her own anger and keep her mind far off the intoxicating sexual energy that danced between them. She’d known passion in the time she’d spent with him, but anger was like a lethal dose of raw chemistry that urged her to do nothing but act on it. And when he was looming over her, every inch of the alpha male he was, not acting on it was a hard thing to do.

It was a good thing Rosalie knew how to hold her own against dominant males just fine, because she was preparing for war – anticipating the same kind of scorn that he’d directed at Stefan to now fall to her. But he didn’t snap her neck and he didn’t compel her either. Instead he released a breath that betrayed just how much he was reigning himself in.

Jaw still grinding, he pinned her down with his gaze. “What do you want to make you let go of this anger? Tell me and its yours.”

“I want us to leave Mystic Falls.” She said and he relaxed some, obviously happy that what she wanted fell into line with his own wants and needs. But it didn’t, not really, and he only understood that when she continued on. “And I want us to leave my sister – my loved ones – to their mundane lives and never bother them again.”

Klaus shook his head at her and shoved a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’ve told you this many times before. If there is ever anything you want, you can have it. I would rip out hearts, crush cities, give you a kingdom to call your home. But I will not endure the loneliness the original witch wished on me. Never again.”

Batting down the irritation at  icey dismissal in his tone was a task much easier said than accomplished. The only thing that won over it was the hurt that they couldn’t find a compromise. That she simply wasn’t  _ enough _ to defeat the soul deep loneliness that clawed away at him. “Even if it means I could end up hating you for it?”

“I told you, we have eternity-”

“And I’ll get over it, or so you say.” She sighed, the thread of patience that she’d been grasping long gone. Even her anger was hard to hold onto at this point. Truthfully, she was just exhausted. “But here’s the thing. I keep thinking of Stefan and I think I remember him saying something about someone who promised him an eternity of misery. I just...I don’t ever want to get to that point. Don’t you get that? I just-”

He was seething – nostrils flaring and muscles suddenly bunched with tension. But it was the cold, dead eyes that caught her off guard and chilled her to the bone. She’d never seen him look at her like that and it took her a second to realize that it wasn’t directed at her but at something over her shoulder.

Or someone, to be more precise.

The devilishly handsome raven-haired male from the mountain – the one she’d learned happened to be Stefan’s older brother – stood behind them. It was a testament to how lost she was to all things Klaus that she didn’t even hear him  approach .

With both of their attentions now trained on him, the male waved them off with a seriously pleased smirk that deepened when his gaze landed on her. “Please, don’t let me keep you from your lovers spat.”

Klaus stepped around her, effectively putting himself between her and the still smirking male whose confident demeanor never even slipped once in the face of the hybrid’s glare. “All you ever do is interfere. I’m afraid that I won’t allow any of that today. Elena is making a donation to the greater cause, as I was just explaining to the fair Rosalie here.”

“Yeah?” Damon raised a dubious brow, his gaze flitting over the hybrid’s shoulder to study the brunette’s expression. “Because she looks like she’d about a second away from kicking your ass. Take it from me, will ya? That little kitten has claws.”

There was something nostalgic, something all too familiar in his tone. He spoke in a way that suggested he’d felt the fury of those claws himself and the very thought of it seemed to amuse him. As confused as that familiarity made her, it didn’t seem to please Klaus and he made that quite clear with a fierce growl that vibrated from deep within his chest.

“I warned you. The only thing keeping you alive is the pledge I made to  your brother, and un like him, I keep my word...Although, you know what, thinking about it now, he probably doesn't care that much anymore.”

The raven-haired male was slammed up against the car within the blink of the eye – his smirk long gone as he clawed at the tight grip around his throat. His gaze darted past the hybrid as he made to rip out the vampire's heart, ocean blue eyes wide with barely contained panic. And for a reason she couldn’t even begin to fathom, the emotion in those eyes had Rosalie lurching forward a step as if compelled to do so.

“Don’t you want to know about your friend Mikael?”

Klaus froze as if he’d been struck, eyes narrowing at the male who had just narrowly escaped death yet again – and all because of a single name. “What do you know about Mikael?”

“Just that he knows you’re here.” The raven-haired male was ever the picture of feigned nonchalance, as much as he could be with that grip tightening in warning – his demise was still very possible and very close if this conversation went the wrong way.

“You’re bluffing.” The hybrid stated – no, he willed it to be true even as a tense muscle jumped in jaw. It was a small twitch, a small marker of unease, but Stefan’s older brother jumped on it like a predator at the first smell of fresh blood.

“Katherine and I found him. Consider it our leverage. I want to renegotiate Stefan’s deal with you. Give her back to me and-”

But his demands would go unheard because not even a moment later he was flung aside, as if he weighed nothing more than feather, and tumbling over the hood of another nearby car. By the time he broke out of his crashed daze and stumbled back to his feet, Klaus was long gone – disappeared into the night with the one thing Damon thought he now had the leverage to get back.

It wasn’t a lost cause. Not when a single name sent the big bad hybrid running. They could win this fight and he would find a way to return the memories – the emotions - that were stole away.

He swore this on his very life as he stalked into the hospital to retrieve the other Gilbert twin and return her to the safety Rosalie would surely thank him for assuring when she was back to being who she was.

And soon too, if he had his way.


	11. CHAPTER 10

For as long as there had ever been a Rosalie Gilbert, there had been an Elena Gilbert; two perfectly contradicting halves of one coin. A set. A pair. After all, wasn’t that exactly what twins were meant be? Weren’t they intended to be inseparable and have some twin intuition to boot? 

Rosalie couldn’t say that she’d ever had the urge to finish Elena’s sentences for her and she certainly didn’t think she had the power to know what went on in her twin’s head sometimes – something she was sure Elena found to be just as frustrating of a feat, if not more. What they had learned about each other was through years of companionship – watching and developing a bond that was untouchable by others. 

Sisterhood, after all, was a precious thing and like all precious things, there came times when it was tested. 

They could bicker like it was their job – clashing about the simplest of things in a way that made the age-old battle between cats and dogs seem tame. It was to be expected – personalities that different couldn’t co-exist in harmony without the occasional friction. If she was fire – all passion, boldness and spontaneity – then Elena was like water – always calm, cool and collected. 

But they were, however, both very stubborn. Pigheaded, if you will. And perhaps that was where they resembled each other far more than in any of their differences. It was a common fact; if a Gilbert twin made up their mind, not even moving earth itself would or could do anything to change it. It was a talent. A trait both could appreciate. But not when they had made their minds up on opposite resolves. 

And as Rosalie hesitantly walked up the drive of the Gilbert residence, swallowing down the emotion that coursed through her at the house that had been both the source of comfort and heartache, she wondered if it would mark another day for the Gilbert twins to clash about things, they would never see eye-to-eye on. 

Or, to be more precise, _who_ they would never see eye-to-eye on. 

It had taken all kinds of back-and-forth bickering for him to agree to let her stay behind – she was fairly sure she’d been working on every little grasp of patience he had left. It was only after he seemed to notice how set she was on staying, on making sure her loved ones were okay, that he’d agreed. Even if only because he was planning to return to Mystic Falls in anyway after whatever it was that he needed to check on himself. Then again, he had only allowed it on his terms - terms that involved having a newly humanity-less Stefan as a guard dog.

It was a strange thing, being away from Klaus – being _truly_ away from him. Not for just a short errand or for some devious hybrid related plan. But truly separated – even if only for a little while, as he’d promised. 

She found that she didn’t like it. 

It was an empty feeling – numbing and unmotivating as if though he’d gone and taken everything that had exhilarated her the past summer with him. But as uncomfortable – as _empty_ \- as it was being away from him, a part of her couldn’t help but feel like it was needed. At least for a short while.

Since her new life began, since she was reborn as a vampire, there hadn’t been a time when they were ever separated for more than a few hours. Granted, she hadn’t exactly wanted to be separated from him either. And she knew without a single doubt that Elena would use all that time spent together as a reason to add to the list of why she would never like or hate Klaus less. 

Rosalie wasn’t stupid and though she couldn’t read her twin’s mind, she did know how her sister thought and while Elena was surely happy that she was alive, her twin would have a hard time grasping that said life now involved being a vampire. As much as she might claim otherwise, Elena didn’t have the best impression of vampires and the few that did pass her judgement were held to scrutiny – expected to be better than the nature that was like a gnawing hunger. 

And Rosalie sure as hell couldn’t say that she had rose above the gnawing hunger or all that excitement that came with being a vampire. On the contrary, she’d more than embraced it. She’d always had a zest for life – a never-ending quest for fun – and that along with many traits, like the spontaneity infused in her very persona, had been amplified since becoming a vampire. 

Elena had often accused her of burning out of control when she was human, what could she accuse her of now that she had embraced what it meant being a vampire? But she wouldn’t be the only one on trial if she messed up – if she showed Elena just how much she liked being a vampire – anything she did would lead back to a certain hybrid and become a sin of his own. Perhaps that was why she was already dreading opening up any kind of discussion after the night they’d all had. 

Rosalie found her sister curled up on the porch swing that was much older than any of the Gilbert siblings – a sweet handcrafted gift to their mother from their father after they first bought the house. Never the most aware of her surroundings, it wasn’t strange that Elena didn’t hear her approach no matter how much care she took for her footsteps to be heard. Then again, her twin always did lose herself in her writing and after the events of that night, her sister probably had a whole gruesome chapter to write about. 

It took a good while for Elena to notice her, so long that it had Rosalie frowning in disapproval. One would think her twin would be able to tell when a shadow fell over her, but the ink continued to write its story across the page for several more moments. Really, it was like her sister had her danger senses on mute- 

Two big, doe-like brown eyes flicked up from the journal and then widened some more – a true and proper stuck in the headlights look. Then, before she could even blink, Elena was rushing to her feet and locking them both in tightest of embraces – a hug so warm that it nearly knocked Rosalie off her feet. 

It was strange how such a simple thing like a hug could leave her feeling breathless. That something so small, a mere gesture dictated by social etiquette, could feel like _home_. But maybe it had much less to do with the hug itself as it did with the person who gave it. 

Elena, as different as they were, would always be her twin. Would always be her other half and no matter where they went, what paths they followed, they could always find a home when they found each other again. 

If that wasn’t a thought to soothe the soul, then Rosalie didn’t know what was. 

“You’re here.” Elena breathed as she pulled back just enough to flick her gaze over her twin’s identical features, true wonder swimming not just in her eyes but embedded in her very tone. It was clear that she hadn’t thought she would see her sister so soon – or at all again. “How are you here? Did he hurt you? Are you okay?” 

“I should be the one asking you that.” Rosalie retorted wryly as she gently pried her sister’s hands on the search for injuries from her face before leading her twin back over to the porch swing and sitting her down. 

Elena was still pale. Then again, if you were made to pump out blood so a hybrid could make an entire army of his species, losing some color was to be expected. Not that it was a soothing or reassuring thought. Quite the opposite, in fact. 

This wasn’t the life she wanted for her twin and she’d continue to try and drive that point across no matter how long it took for Klaus to see she wouldn’t budge on the matter. It would probably take a long time for them to see eye-to-eye on the whole _my sister isn’t going to be your unwilling blood donor_ thing; the hybrid was a stubborn as she was. But it was a good thing that she was as determined as she was resourceful. 

She’d half expected her twin to wave her off, to claim that she was fine and dandy – the typical, selfless, Elena thing to do. But her twin didn’t muster that nonchalance. She didn’t put on a brave face and bury her worries deep down to pour into another journal page later. 

With her shoulders slumped and her gaze finding safe haven onto the wooden planks of the porch, Elena hadn’t ever looked more fragile – more defeated. 

“I spent the whole summer fighting with Damon. Telling him that you both could be saved – that Stefan hadn’t gone off the deep-end no matter how many headlines or additions to the body count he showed me. But...I watched it happen tonight. This time Stefan is really gone and it's because of _him_. This is all because of him. None of this would have happened if he’d just left us alone.” 

It wasn’t that simple – things hardly ever were – and she knew that Elena had to know that pretty well too. By that extent, life would have been simpler if Stefan had never come into their lives either – then again, Elena had tried to cut him out of their lives for that very reason, even if her resolve on the matter hadn’t lasted too long. But even then, there was no guarantee that some other vampire or supernatural creature wouldn’t have found them. Doppelgangers were a supernatural occurrence in their own right and it was just their luck that they lived in a town with a vast and secret history where vampires were concerned. 

Things really were never that simple. Or uncomplicated, for that matter. 

Her twin seemed to hesitate, unsure how to phrase her question in a way that wouldn’t get the hackles rising. “Are you...Did he compel you too?” 

She’d been expecting the question. If Stefan had spent an entire summer wondering the very same thing, then it was only natural that the idea had have plagued her twin. And after seeing how easy it was for Klaus to make Stefan turn off his humanity, that idea had to be drumming at Elena’s mind again. 

And yet she still couldn’t give them the answer they wanted. Not even to make them think she was better than she was. Her actions, her decisions, those had all been her own and she simply didn’t know how to explain that to them. 

“I’m still me.” Rosalie muttered after a beat of silence, searching for the words that seemed lost to her. “I’m just...more now.” 

“But Klaus-” 

“I’ll tell you what I told him.” She sighed as she turned fully to face her twin, grasping Elena’s hands between her own and squeezing them in a way that begged for her twin to pay attention. “I won’t choose. There is no either-or option for me. If anything, the option I choose is _me_. And maybe that makes me selfish – heck, that’s probably exactly what I am at this point but I don’t even care. 

“And I don’t expect you to understand it. I don’t even expect you to be understanding or forgiving. All I ask is that you bear with me because I’m still trying to navigate all of this too. It won’t be easy and I hate having to ask this of you again – but can you try and trust me on this?” 

Elena frowned down at their intertwined hands, her lips all but turning down at the corners. “He’s not a good person, Rose. You have to see that. What he did tonight...How can you expect me to ever trust that you could be safe with him?” 

“He’s no saint.” Rosalie agreed softly, and she found that uttering the words aloud didn’t make her feelings waver. There was no shame in admitting it. “And I don’t need him to be one. What matters is that he’s good to _me._ And yeah, tonight was shitty and I promise to tear him a new one for it – I promise, Elena. I’ll film it too, if you want.” 

But her twin didn’t smile. She didn’t even muster a half-hearted chuckle. If anything, her frown just deepened some more. “I think you’re blinded by whatever connection you two have – just like before. You’re not thinking clearly. You’re _forgetting_ things and you don’t even _know_ it. You have options, Rosalie. It doesn’t have to be him.” 

Rosalie sighed at the stubborn jut to her sister’s chin, sensing a bickering session on the horizon if she didn’t nip it in the bud before it could get underway. “Elena-” 

Elena was already pulling their hands apart and reaching under the throw blanket tangled up on the side for a thick, worn purple scrapbook album that had seen better days. She flipped through the pages like a woman on a mission, her eyes all but lighting up as she found what she had apparently been looking for. 

“Just look. Look and tell me that you can’t be happy with someone else. I _know_ that you can. It doesn’t have to be Klaus.” 

She’d forgotten how her sister’s stubbornness could irk her. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell her twin to stop her yapping and to just agree to disagree, when Elena all but shoved the book under her nose and her words fell short of being uttered aloud. 

The Founders’ Day Celebration had been disastrous – not a single part of it had gone as she had it imagined the day would play out when she finally stood on that parade float as Miss Mystic Falls. Then again, no one probably ever imagined that their biological father would return to town with a plan to burn every vampire in town alive – or that you would get chucked into a basement with all those vampires and said raging fire by mistake either. 

And yet she was still pretty sure she’d spent most of that day on her own – in a crowd, in a basement, around people but still alone. That wasn’t the story the photographs pasted on the pages of the scrapbook told – in fact, they painted a story that was very much the opposite. But how did you forget a moment captured forever in a photograph? How did you forget an entire moment in which another person was captured looking at you like _that_? 

She was so sure she hadn’t ever met Damon Salvatore before that day in the mountains – was so sure that the very incident in front of the hospital, no matter how familiar he acted or spoke, was only the second time they had ever crossed paths. She didn’t have any memories to contradict that and yet a few photographs did. 

The story they painted was not one of a disastrous day endured through all on her lonesome. She hadn’t even done a queenly wave on the float on her own, not if the sight of Stefan’s older brother holding onto her waist and smirking like a devilishly handsome suitor was anything to go by. 

There was nothing awkward about the embrace – no markers to indicate that they were strangers thrown together for the hell of it. It seemed familiar, _intimate_ even. In fact, they looked like two conspirators, whispering secrets that no one else would ever by privy to. 

Herself now included considering that she couldn’t recall a single second of any of it. 

She couldn’t even try to reason that it was her sister – couldn't even try to use the identical features to try and find a way to make sense of what was literally mindboggling. She’d learned the way to tell them apart just as every other resident of Mystic Falls had – though she suspected it was a much easier task for the twins themselves than it was for outsiders. 

Elena’s eyes were doe-like – pure windows to the soul that reflected so much and hid so little. Rosalie’s eyes were far more cat-like – mischievous, twinkling and they weren’t nearly as forthcoming as her twins’ orbs. Elena’s hair was naturally wavy, albeit preferably straightened, where Rosalie had more of a natural curl that could quickly turn to tight ringlets around wet weather. And they couldn’t have been more different than when it came to their preferred style of clothing and accessories or makeup, for that matter. 

The person staring back at her from within the photographs was, undeniably, no one else but herself. And it was a sinking realization that left her all but breathless. Hell, it would have knocked her off her feet had she been standing upright. 

“You see?” Elena asked softly when wide eyes full of question finally darted up in search of answers. “You just don’t remember what you’re missing.” 


End file.
